Appearances
by deadweix
Summary: Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray were the apple of their parents' eyes. However, behind closed doors, things at home were quite different. AU with references to canon. Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. Warnings: Child abuse (Physical, Sexual & Emotional), Incest, Sex with a minor, Language
1. In Which We Meet Rachel Berry

**Introduction:** Here's some explanation of why I started writing this story. I actually wrote this in a reply to one of my reviews, then I decided it would be good to share it with all my readers, hence its transfer here.

I actually got the idea for this fic when I was re-watching Season 1, Episode 13 (Sectionals). After Finn blew up on Quinn for not telling him that Puck is the father, when Rachel goes up to Quinn and says "I'm so sorry. I fully understand if you want to beat me up. If you can, just try and avoid my nose.". Then she stands there, closes her eyes and waits for Quinn to hit her. I mean, who does that? A few episodes later, during Junior Prom (S02E20), when Quinn actually does slap Rachel, all Rachel has to say is "Most girls would be upset about getting slapped in the face, but I happen to appreciate the drama of it." Then she hands Quinn a paper towel and very kindly comforts her, saying "You're the prettiest girl I've met Quinn but you're a lot more than that."

I know in the series, Hiram and Leroy clearly adore Rachel to bits and are nothing like mine (hence this is AU); Rachel is probably just weird, or weird about Quinn at least, but for me, when I watched these two scenes, warning bells started ringing in my head, so I just wanted to offer my own interpretation of what they could have meant about Rachel. Also, I might have recently watched Lea's Broadway musical "Spring Awakening" on Youtube, so many of the themes in that musical inspired much of my writing here.

**Warning: This fic contains many triggers. It is M-rated for a reason, actually, many reasons, particularly Incest & Child Abuse.  
**

**Disclaimer: Glee is not mine.**

Chapter 1. In Which We Meet Rachel Berry

"How do you think you performed today?"

Rachel stood ramrod straight in front of her Dad, save for her bowed head. She had expected the question, of course. He had asked her that same question after every performance since her first dance recital at 2, and more often than not, her answer would lead to a very painful night inflicted by him. The number of times she had escaped unscathed were few and far between. However, she knew she had to answer quickly and honestly, her Dad was not a patient man.

"I failed to maintain my posture in the 2nd dance after the leap and landed clumsily. I also ran out of stamina towards the end and was sluggish in the 5th and 6th dances. Sir."

She held her tongue that she'd failed to maintain her posture because her back was aching with welts, she'd landed poorly because she was still recovering from a sprained ankle, and she had ran out of stamina because she had not eaten for 2 days. Excuses were not permitted, only the admission of her faults, delivery of her apologies, acceptance of her punishment and redemption of her guilt. Today had not been the actual performance, just a rehearsal, but she knew she had performed inexcusably horribly and was in for a painful night.

"What about that 4th song? You were so busy focusing on the steps that you failed to look up and maintain your show smile. You've obviously been lazy and clearly haven't spent enough time practicing the moves if you're too distracted to even smile during rehearsal. And what is with that show smile of yours today? Totally lacking in energy. You and I have a lot of practicing to do in the basement. Tomorrow morning, 4am."

Rachel nodded, head still bowed. She hadn't noticed that error, and she would be paying for that negligence too. "Yes sir, I'm sorry sir."

"Strip."

From here on, Rachel knew the steps well, better than the steps to any dance she'd ever learnt. She quickly removed every piece of clothing including her undergarments, folded them, and placed them neatly on the floor beside the door. She would only get them back after she had been sufficiently disciplined tonight. Now stark naked, she stepped forward towards the wall, placed her hands flat against it, shoulder width apart, and leaned forward so her elbows and forehead rested against the wall as well, bending slightly at the waist, so that her bottom stuck out. This was Dad's favourite position, showing her submission as she presented her bottom to him for punishment. Not that he would be limiting his punishments to her bottom only, the vulnerable position she was in also meant that her entire back, from her shoulders down to her calves were available for discipline if necessary.

Once in place, all that was left was for her to do was to remain in position and maintain her silence until her beating was over. She closed her eyes and waited for the familiar swish to inform her which implement Dad was going to use tonight.

Leroy Berry surveyed the contents of the cupboard, considering his options. Making his decision, he removed the thick leather belt and the junior cane from their respective hooks, and placed the cane on his desk. He folded the belt into two and held the buckle end in his right fist.

"I won't be using the belt buckle tonight, considering you have a more severe punishment coming up for trying to hide your mistakes from me, refusing to admit to your faults and accepting the punishment for them. You better perform well at practice tomorrow morning or you will feel my belt buckle then, is that clear?"

Rachel opened her eyes. Dad seldom spoke to her when she was already in position for her punishment. She was unsure of protocol here. Should she turn around and resume the required posture when she was speaking to him, or was she expected to maintain her punishment position and speak to him facing the wall? Would that be considered rude?

She knew she had hesitated too long when she heard the belt drop the floor, and felt her father's large hand fist itself in her dark brown hair and pull her away from the wall with such force that she would have been thrown against the opposite wall if her Dad's left hand was not still gripping her tightly, holding her up by her hair.

"You little piece of shit! As if it's not enough that you embarrassed me with that shameful display of incompetence just now, then defiantly try to avoid your well-deserved punishment, now you're ignoring me? Want to add rudeness during discipline to the list as well?"

She was not given an opportunity to reply as Leroy's strong right hand slapped her left cheek, then backhanded across her right cheek with a powerful 1-2. She felt her teeth rattle within her mouth and her head spin dangerously. She opened her mouth, knowing she needed to speak, to apologise and grovel for her Dad's forgiveness, but all she could manage was a gasp for air, her normally verbose tongue having seemingly lost its ability to form coherent words. This only served to infuriate Leroy even more as his right hand clenched itself into a fist and slammed into her stomach, causing her to cry out in pain for the first time. She curled up despite the pressure it placed on her hair that was still being held in a death grip, and tried to protect her sensitive abdomen from further blows. With a howl of rage at her defiance in resisting his punishment and trying to protect herself, Leroy flung her to the ground, inevitably pulling out a fistful of her hair in the process, and proceeded to kick her in the flanks with his boot-clad feet, since her arms were still wrapped protectively around her abdomen. The terrified girl tried to escape by curling up further, trying to turn around so as to expose her back for the punishing kicks instead.

Rachel's head was clearing when she realized that she had instinctively curled into fetal position and was now hugging her knees so that the kicks were now only landing on her back. She whimpered, knowing this was only infuriating her Dad further; she had to do something, she had to apologise for her further defiance, but the survival instinct to protect her most vulnerable parts was hard to ignore.

Pow! Leroy's leg shot out, a powerful kick directed at her head instead, since the blows to her body had seemingly elicited no response from the girl.

Pow! Rachel's head was flung backwards, leaving her chest open and unprotected. The blows rained down hard and fast on her unprotected chest wall, and Rachel's training finally kicked in. Amidst the explosion of violence, she fought the urge to protect herself and focused instead on pushing herself upright on her knees so she could properly beg for forgiveness. Predictably, the blows slowed to a stop, allowing her to catch one last breath before she launched into her well-practiced apology.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for my rudeness and my defiance, sorry for my ungratefulness towards your kindness and leniency. I should have replied you respectfully and thanked you for your kind consideration that I do not deserve. I should have relaxed my body to your punishment that you only deliver to help me become better. I should not have hid from you, should not have screamed, should not have tried to protect myself from the punishment that I deserve. Please forgive me. I'm ready to properly receive my punishment now, sir."

Leroy sneered at the tearful girl kneeling at his feet. Her hands were on her head, laced together to keep each other from moving out of position, her head bowed in submission as she finished delivering her apology and waited for his verdict, still breathing hard. It was satisfying to see that while she sometimes fought back, he could always beat her back into this submissive, defeated posture that he had taken great pains to train her to adopt. Giving her one last kick to her now unprotected abdomen, he smiled at her lack of reaction to it and barked, "Tomorrow, get up at 3am and finish 10 clicks on your elliptical by 4. Dance practice will be from 4 to 7, and you better not be complaining of tiredness or you will not be getting any breakfast, is that clear?"

The mention of food caused Rachel's stomach to growl hungrily as it reminded her that she had not had any food for 2 days. She sucked in her breath, hoping against hope that the sound had escaped her Dad's notice. "Yes sir," she quickly replied, and forced her battered body to move back to the wall, taking up her original position to wait for the beating that she knew would now be more severe because she had made her Dad even angrier. A glance around the room just now had informed her that her punishment would consist of a strapping with the thick leather belt and a caning with the junior cane. She'd experienced both before, more times than she could remember, and they weren't the most severe of implements but would hurt all the same. Even on unblemished skin, they would normally leave marks lasting for at least a few days, not that her skin was often unblemished. This was going to hurt like a bitch, especially on top of her new injuries, the kicks having opened up most of the blisters and wounds on her back, many of which were now bleeding sluggishly.

It could be worse, she told herself fiercely. She'd had far worse before. An extra hour on the elliptical was a pathetically lenient punishment for the stunt she had just pulled, her Dad often assigned much worse for lesser mistakes. Rudeness was unforgivable, and any wrongdoing done during discipline showed disrespect and defiance, which was unforgivable as well, making her rudeness while under discipline doubly unforgivable. There were many much more severe punishment implements in the cupboard, she knew them all very intimately. He could very well have decided that she needed to be 'taught a lesson' and then she would have had to spend the entire night here in her Dad's study, because after said 'lesson', she knew from experience that she would be too weak to crawl out of the room, much less hop on her elliptical, perform any dance moves or get to school tomorrow.

She supposed she should be thankful for her dance recital the following Saturday. Her Dad was probably holding back now only because some of his friends were coming to the recital next Saturday, friends he wanted to impress. They were apparently fairly important people in the gay community, and he wanted to show off his 'perfect little Daddy's girl' to them. Despite their low socio-economic status, being one of few gay married men in Ohio who had managed to adopt a child brought them some standing in the gay community, and Dad and Daddy often milked it for what it was worth. It was the reason why they had been so happy that Shelby their surrogate had good musical genes, the reason why she had attended singing, dancing and acting classes since she was old enough to remember, and why outside of school and music classes, she spent most of her time exercising to keep fit and limber or practicing for her performances in the basement until she collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

To the rest of the world, she was the picture of a spoiled little girl, pampered with every opportunity for her to shine on the stage, the product of a loving marriage that proved that 2 gay men could successfully raise an obedient, beautiful, intelligent and talented daughter. Behind closed doors, however, this was the reality of her life.

She shuddered, thinking of what would happen to her if she screwed up the dance recital on Saturday like she had messed up the rehearsal today. No, she told herself, she would practise hard and deliver a flawless performance on Saturday. She had to, not just to avoid further punishment that would surely be brutal considering she had no more performances after that for a month. More importantly, she had to be flawless, because her Dad and Daddy had put so much effort into raising her and training her, and this was the only way she could repay them. Being gay men in a conservative state, even finding a willing surrogate had been tough and they had gone through so much difficulty just to be able to conceive her. She could not afford to let them down again. She was always disappointing them, and the only times she could remember making them proud of her was when she shone on the stage and impressed their friends. She had to deliver next Saturday, she simply had to.

Leroy heard the rumbling of her stomach and nodded in approval as she ignored it in favour of resuming her original position to present her body for punishment. She stared at the wall in front of her, as though deep in thought and he wondered for a moment what was going through her head. Her stomach rumbled again, shaking her from her thoughts and she visibly shuddered. They both knew she could not control the involuntary reactions of her body, especially after it had been starved for 2 consecutive days, but they also knew that he never really cared about whether or not she could control herself and had often punished her before for this very same sound, claiming it was a protest against well-deserved punishment, and therefore a show of defiance. Naked as she was, the muscles in her shoulders visibly tensed, as she awaited his verdict.

He chuckled at her obvious discomfort. "Hungry, girl?" he mocked.

"Yes, sir," she confessed, knowing it was useless attempting to lie to her Dad. She could not argue against her body's reactions and just another mention of food would be enough for her stomach to cramp painfully again. As for shame, considering her current naked and battered state and the exposed position of her body as she awaited further punishment, there was no way she could increase her level of shame any further.

"But I know I deserve the continued food restriction for my recent poor performance, sir, I've been bad so I don't deserve to eat. I'm sorry for my stomach's growling… I don't mean to protest my punishment, sir…" Her voice trembled and faded into a whisper.

"You know you deserve it," he said harshly. "You need to earn the food you eat, and if you perform well tomorrow, you'll get fed, simple as that. Besides, you could afford to knock off a few more pounds. You're ugly enough as it is, don't need to add being fat against you as well. Rolls of blubber showing under your leotard would definitely count against you next Saturday," he added derisively.

She released the breath she had been holding when he did not mention any additional punishments and leaned her weight against the wall, determined to hold her position obediently and not incur any more of her Dad's wrath tonight, as she heard the swish of the belt and felt its sharp sting across her upper thighs.

'Tomorrow's skirt would have to be longer', she told herself, 'to hide the bruises there as well.' The belt continued to rise and fall, landing on various parts of her anatomy, leaving no skin unmarked, not even her tender calves. Those would have to be hidden by knee high socks. She bit her lip and managed to stay silent, even when the belt curled around her upper back and the tip landed on the lateral side of her sensitive breasts. She fought to distract herself by planning tomorrow's outfit and makeup routine to mask the bruises, then rehearsing her dance steps for tomorrow in her head, knowing that while this might work now, it would take all of her focus to not scream under the biting lash of the cane later.


	2. In Which We Meet Quinn Fabray

sillystarshine - Yes, this is a repost (see below). As for the rescue, it'll definitely be coming, I wouldn't be able to bear leaving those 2 poor girls in their respective families for too long, although I plan to spend at least the first 3 chapters building groundwork on what Quinn and Rachel's family/school lives are like first. Hope you'll enjoy it.

snowdrop1026 - Thank you so much, you're too kind! That was a hard chapter to write, I was sobbing before I was halfway through, but I needed it to show the character of my Rachel, and her relationship with her fathers. You're meeting Quinn in this chapter, just a little bit, there's more of her coming next chapter, I promise! Btw, I'm new to this site and so, what's "PMS"? I'm assuming you're not referring to what it normally means...

**A/N: This story is a repost. I'm so sorry for pulling the story earlier, I wanted to edit some parts to fit in with my later plans for the story. This is my first story on and I wasn't aware that i could edit the chapters directly without removing them. This chapter is a little short but it's my way of saying "I'm sorry!"**

Chapter 2. In Which We Meet Quinn Fabray

Rachel trudged to school tiredly, pulling her pink roller case along. She owned a backpack, of course, but there was no way she would be able to walk 5 miles to school carrying it, without screaming as each step bumped the heavy backpack against her mangled back.

She had managed to finish the requisite 10 clicks on her elliptical this morning, although she had cheated and had woken up at 2.30am in order to have more time to do so. However, the lack of sleep and food, combined with her exhausting morning workout had depleted her already low energy resources, and she had collapsed from sheer exhaustion by 6, too tired to even stand, much less dance. Daddy, who was watching Dad oversee her dance practice while eating his breakfast had stepped in when Dad was about to thrash her, saying that she would be dancing even more poorly if one of Dad's punches accidentally cracked her ribs. He had given her an option of no breakfast and another strapping with the belt, or if she wanted breakfast, to accept a beating with the buckle end of the belt instead. She had been too tired to even stand respectfully in front of him and had pleaded from her collapsed position at his feet to "please punish her with the belt buckle to teach her not to be so lazy".

The beating had been brutal, but at least they had allowed her to accept it lying down on her bed, seeing as she was too tired to hold herself up in any punishment position, much less resist the tearing of the stainless steel buckle at her skin. The beating was a blurred memory of pain, she was certain she had lost consciousness several times, only to be woken up by another vicious blow. It concluded with ten rapid fire hits to her sensitive thighs, which had been relatively spared before last night's punishment, but were now lacerated with not an inch of untouched skin save for the inner portion of her thighs that had been held together during the beatings.

The punishment, while brutal, had allowed her exhausted body some much needed rest, and she had regained sufficient energy after it to bring herself to her knees before her two fathers and apologise once more for her dismal performance and thank them for the punishment.

"I'm late for work," was Daddy's only reply as he walked out of her room.

"Go wash up, you look like shit!" Dad spat, before also heading down the stairs.

The quick shower, then cleaning and bandaging up of some of the deeper wounds had taken her another 30 minutes. Some of the older ones looked infected, they were taking too long to heal, and she worried over them before deciding there was nothing much she could do besides try to keep them covered and clean. Her face had been relatively spared besides an ugly bruise on her right temple, where she had been kicked the previous night. She expertly covered it with foundation using minimal makeup – her fathers wanted her to look like their innocent little girl, not "a slut that fucks around", which was why they generally tried to avoid her face during their beatings as well.

Satisfied that her appearance would give nothing away of the battered body hidden beneath, she quickly made her way to the kitchen for the promised breakfast. She was so hungry that any food would be a joy. To her delight, she found _two_ apples sitting on the kitchen table. They were rarely so generous, especially when her behaviour had been so atrocious as it had been lately. Wrapping one in plastic to bring to school for lunch later, she hungrily bit into the other as she started on the dishes in the sink. The kitchen was generally quite clean although she made a mental note to herself to mop the floor when she came home from school. Wiping down the tables, she eagerly picked up her half eaten apple for another bite and began her long walk to school. It was earlier than usual because her dance practice had ended early but she knew she would also be walking more slowly than usual, and would need the headstart.

Now, walking along the sidewalk, she wished for the millionth time that she could drive. Or even just ride a bicycle or roller skate, something to make the long walk go faster. Her legs still felt like jelly and the large apple, while delicious, hadn't been quite enough to satisfy her hunger. There was another apple just sitting in her bag and she was just so hungry, she really wanted to eat it. At the same time, she felt greedy for being dissatisfied with her breakfast. Dad's comments about her being fat rang in her mind, and she felt guilty for her hunger. One large apple should be enough for breakfast, right?

But she hadn't eaten anything else in 2 days, so an exception should be alright. Plus it wasn't like it would make any difference to her calorie count if she ate it now or at lunch. In fact, if she ate it now, she could then spend lunchtime catching up on homework or sleep instead. Or the dance practice that she had missed this morning because she was too pathetically weak. Making up her mind, she stopped to remove her second apple from her bag, balancing it between her palm and the bag so she could use her fingers to zip up her bag. A passing car honked loudly at her, shocking her out of her thoughts and causing her to drop the apple. Oh no! She watched in dismay as the dropped apple rolled onto the grass. The sight of the apple, however, caused her stomach to growl loudly again. She normally did not subscribe to the 'five-second rule' but it only took her a second to decide that muddy or not, she was going to eat it _now_, she was too hungry to care. Wiping the surface with a tissue, she bit down on the apple hungrily, ignoring the slight grittiness of dirt and enjoying the taste of actual food. God, she was _starving_.

...

Quinn Fabray was in a bad mood. And she was late for Cheerios practice, so Coach Sylvester was going to murder her. Or at least make her wish she was dead. She winced, thinking of the extra drills that she would have to do to make up for her tardiness. All those drills on top of last night… she mashed her lips together, as though it was responsible for the dangerous path her thoughts had taken. _Nothing_ had happened last night.

As she sped along, she spied a familiar figure pulling a pink roller bag along. Of course, Little Miss Broadway, the proud, perfect, annoying daughter of 2 gay dads, the bane of her existence. She was crouching beside her bag, removing something. Probably a mike so she could sing show tunes at the top of her lungs and annoy the hell out of everyone early in the morning, "because everyone should feel honoured to be treated to a free performance of my lovely voice".

She got fantastic grades, had a voice to die for, and two fathers, who far from forming a dysfunctional family her father always insisted homosexuality would create, loved her very much. She'd met them before, sitting in the front row of every performance, when Quinn's own parents never once attended a Glee performance or cheerleading competition, not even her Nationals-winning routine last year that had also won her the position of Captain. She hated that girl with a passion, she had everything, and no matter how hard Quinn tried to insult her and bring her down, she always turned her overly large nose in the air and walked away, sometimes not even deigning to respond to her insults.

Feeling malicious, she slowed her vehicle and purposely honked loudly just as she was passing her by, hoping to scare her. Quinn smiled spitefully, expecting a long annoyed rant about proper etiquette to erupt from the normally verbose teenager. However, what she did not expect was for Berry to flinch backwards in fear and nearly fall over onto the grass by the pavement. Slightly concerned, although she would deny it to her grave if anyone dared to accuse of showing concern for _Berry_ of all people, she slowed her vehicle further, checking her rearview mirror to make sure that the midget was okay. Again, Berry did the unexpected by fishing what looked like an apple out of the grass, cleaning it vigorously and biting into it.

_Weird_, she thought to herself, before realizing that she was already late and had no time to contemplate the strangeness that was Rachel Berry. Even while speeding up all the way to school, however, she could not help but wonder what would possess the younger girl to eat an apple that had been dropped into the mud, especially since she distinctly remembered the annoying girl was normally a stickler for hygiene and cleanliness. _Can't afford to get sick and ruin her voice._

Ugh, what business was it of hers anyway? Berry was her enemy, all the better if she caught some stupid mud disease and died. Or at the very least, missed school for a few days. Pulling into the school's driveway, she shook her head out of her strange, wandering thoughts, parked her car quickly, then sprinted for the bleachers, ignoring the dull ache in her bottom and thighs as she did so. Judging by the loud blaring of music, they were already well into their newest routine. She was in so much trouble.


	3. Stains

JAMES-EAI - Thank you, I will! It's going to stay sad for quite sometime...

gleeothfriends90210cccjsdAMD - This chapter has a little more about Quinn's home life! There will be more coming, but I'm finding Quinn's story alot harder to write than Rachel's. Hope this chapter satisfies you (:

The Retired Pokemon Master - Yes, I agree with you that it's brutal and horrible and should never happen in real life. But these things happen and I wanted to get it out there. As for our two girls, it depends on what you mean by "getting worse", I guess. But things will definitely get better eventually. Hang in there, the rescue is coming!

snowdrop1026 - Thank you! It's a great compliment to have my readers guessing at what happens next. I hope this chapter answers some of your questions.

**Warning: Triggers ahead! Incest and Rape. Please do not read if you are easily traumatized. Warnings will also be made just before the paragraphs that contain the triggers.**

Chapter 3. Stains

Rachel walked into McKinley, her head held high. At home, she may bow her head out of respect to her fathers, but here at school, there was no such need. No matter what insults her classmates threw her, the names they called her, it didn't matter. She was going to Broadway, she was going to be a star, and they were going to remain in this town and live out their lives as Lima losers.

At least, that was what she told herself. The truth was, it hurt to not have friends, to not have anyone to talk to. It was easier to pretend that she was alone out of choice. Still, all the insults and name-calling was good practice for her future Broadway career. There would surely be ill-mannered naysayers and jealous competitors who hated her performances or resented her talent and wanted to tear her down, and she would need to be able to maintain her composure and walk away from their disparaging comments with her head held high, so why not start practicing now?

"Yo, freak," a footballer greeted her from behind and she squeezed her eyes shut expecting to be greeted with her usual slushy facial. She blushed fiercely when none came, coming to the realization that she was just being made fun of. When she opened her eyes, she was met instead with the laughing faces of a wall of footballers.

_Seriously?_ They had never done this before and she lost her cool. "Don't you ignorant fools have anything better to do than to play such senseless, juvenile tricks on your fellow classmates? You Neanderthals, either throw a slushy at me or don't, make up your minds!"

"Okay!" Karofsky and Azimio shouted together as they both produced real slushies from behind their backs and threw both in her face simultaneously, covering her with bright red and green icy drinks. They guffawed and high fived each other, clearly pleased at their success. "RuPaul, I think we just improved your appearance!"

"Ahh!" she screamed as the two slushies caught her by surprise and she did not manage to close her eyes in time before the icy sugary liquid landed everywhere on her face including into her eyes. Her vision temporarily impaired, she ran blindly for where she knew the nearest toilet was, which was just a few steps away. Thankfully, the footballers all parted way for her, not wanting to get a slushy stain on their prized Letterman jackets.

Ten minutes later, she emerged from the toilet and headed for her locker to retrieve her spare sweater. Most of the slushy had been expertly washed from her face and hair, although annoyingly, her eyes were red-rimmed, making it slook like she had just been crying. She had _not_, slushies had become a daily occurrence for her since she started high school, not at all worth crying over. No, it was just that some of the beverage had gotten into her eyes and she had not been able to wash it all away. The stinging pain was still a little irritating but she resisted the urge to rub at her eyes, knowing it would only make the redness worse. While she was relatively clean, her clothes were a different matter. Red was one of the hardest colours to wash off, and patches of stains still remained on her yellow sweater. Thankfully, her skirt was clean. After a quick change of clothes, she was seating herself in her homeroom when the warning bell rang.

Just another regular morning.

…

"Ms. Quinn Fabray," the housekeeper greeted. Quinn walked past, hardly sparing a glance at her. She had been taught from young to "act like a Fabray". Servants were beneath her, and not to be spoken to as equals. They need not be greeted, only ordered around and scolded if they made a mistake.

Quinn walked into her room, threw her bag onto her desk and collapsed onto her chair. Coach Sylvester had gone crazy today, keeping her back after school for some insane punishment drills, which had just about killed her. Coach was really strict with her but Quinn knew it was only because she was captain. It had been brutal, but she had completed them all – 200 suicides and 200 triple back flips, then 10 perfect run-throughs of the routine that the rest of the Squad had been practicing that morning, not a step out of place. It was a punishment meant for a captain and she had completed it as the Captain. No one else on the squad would have been able to complete all that in 3 hours, well, maybe except for Santana. The punishment was supposed to be private, her privilege for being Captain, but she knew some of the girls had snuck in to watch, it was rare that Coach's star pupil got punished after all. She had put their whispering to rest though, she thought with no small amount of satisfaction. She deserved to be the star, deserved to be Captain. She had earned her position, and today, she had proved it again.

Thinking about why she had been late, though, wiped the proud smirk off her face. Her father's face came unbidden into the forefront of her mind and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly in disgust. No! But with her body exhausted, no other distractions in sight and sitting in the very room where it had happened, the events of the morning unfolded in her mind once more…

**[Warning: Triggers ahead!]**

_She was wearing her Cheerios uniform and had just finished putting on the final touches of her makeup. Tightening her perfect high ponytail one more time, she turned around and walked out of her bathroom, getting ready to go to school._

'_Father!' she uttered in shock, as she walked right into her father, who she now realized, had been staring at her as she put on her makeup. She recovered quickly, schooling her face into one of polite respect and said in a much calmer voice, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in. How may I help you?" The calm in her voice betrayed the turmoil of emotions in her heart. Her father never came into her room except at night to…_

_Before her thoughts could go down that treacherous path, her father spoke._

"_I thought I might visit with my daughter, whom I love so much. Don't you love me, dear?"_

"_Yes, sir." She gulped._

"_Then show me, show me how much you love me," he said, as he unzipped his pants and allowed it to drop to the floor._

_Quinn closed her eyes, panicking. "Please, father, I have to go to school. I have morning Cheerios practice, and I'm the captain I have to be the first one in to make sure…"_

_Smack! She never got to finish her sentence as her father's hand flew across her cheek. "I said, show me," he said coldly. "And if you want to make it to your precious Cheerios practice on time, then you better work fast, hmm?"_

_She looked up from her fallen position on the floor into the icy blue eyes of her father. They stared back at her, emotionless as they always were, and powerful, forcing her into movement without another word. Those eyes told her what his order was without him having to speak the words. He never said those words, never named this – these vile acts that he forced her to do. He never had to, the power that he held over her meant that she could never disobey him. The power that he conveyed just by staring at her._

_She knelt in front of her father, lowered his briefs, and wrapped her lips around his exposed penis. Eyes bulging, fighting her gag reflex, trying not to think about what she was doing. She worked hard at licking and sucking but it was easy to see the disgust in her eyes. No one was forcing her, holding a gun to her head, yet here she was, kneeling like an obedient little puppy, performing this vile act. Like the nightly visits to her bedroom weren't bad enough, this was happening in the light of day, when her mother was awake! What if she walked in on this? It took her 20 minutes to get him to cum and just before he did, he pulled out of her mouth, shooting his ejaculate all over her neatly pressed uniform, some of it landing in her hair as well. "That's for saying no to me," he spat at her._

"_I'm sorry, Father," she said, still on her knees, as she stared down at the disgusting gooey mess that now covered her beloved uniform. She loved being a Cheerio, being captain of the Cheerios, but now even that had been blemished by… this._

"_And remember, I made you captain, you're nothing without me," he said as he left the room, leaving Quinn still kneeling on the floor, wondering how quickly she could brush her teeth, shower, and change again. She was going to be so late for Cheerios practice._

**[/End Warning]**

No! She would not think about that. Or about last night.

History! She had to write her History paper on the Industrial Revolution. And type out that English essay she'd already finished writing out, finish her Biology lab report from yesterday's practical and start on her AP Calculus problem sets. Determined to be distracted by her homework, she quickly booted up her laptop, pulled out her folders and started on her work. Her father might 'help' her by donating money and gifts to the school and her teachers, but she needed to work hard too, to achieve the best grades. No way was she going to allow that annoying ass-kisser Rachel Berry to top her again. Although her father could easily help her get back ahead on the rankings with a few well-chosen gifts to the right people, he had promised her even worse punishment if it happened again and last term had been bad enough. Even the daily slushy facials she had ordered for that annoying girl this term had not been sufficient to make up for how bad that punishment had been.


	4. Daddies

paynedpanic - Thank you. It might take sometime for them to uncover each others' secret, but they'll eventually get there and help each other heal. Also, I agree with your assessment of Quinn's family situation. I'm trying to write in the parents' POVs too, to help understand why they do the things they do, but Russell's POV is hard to write in... I'll eventually get round to it.

As for their ages, I'm sorry it wasn't clear. I'll discuss the girls' years in my Author's Note (see below).

blaze007 - Hope this satisfies some of your curiosity (:

**A/N: Here is an ultra long chapter! Alot of things are happening (in the story) at home and in school and here I have a confession to make - I'm not American. I actually live thousands of miles away (prizes for guessing which country I'm from!). Therefore, I'm not too familiar with the American education system. I've actually tried to read up on it but I'm bound to make some errors, so feel free to point them and correct them to me! I'll be very grateful (:  
My intention for Quinn and Rachel is for them to be in midway through their sophomore year, so they've had 1.5 years with each other in high school already. Quinn made captain after Nationals in freshman year, and both of them are in Glee club.  
From what I understand, sophomores (10th grade) usually start the school at 15 years old and end it at 16 years. So Quinn is 16. Rachel skipped a year (2nd grade), and her birthday is not over yet, so she's 14.  
**

******Warning: Triggers ahead! Incest and Rape. Please do not read if you are easily traumatized. Warnings will also be made just before the paragraphs that contain the triggers.**

Chapter 4

By the time Rachel reached home, she was exhausted and hungry again. Nonetheless, it had been quite a good day. She had only gotten slushied that one time this morning before school and had been able to avoid most of the jocks for the rest of the day. She had also managed to finish most of her schoolwork during class, both her History paper and Biology lab report were now completed. She'd spent lunchtime typing out her English essay at the school library, glad that by finishing her lunch on the way to school, she'd left lunch period free. She was also halfway through her AP Calculus practice questions, her teacher had given them two weeks before their first mock paper but she wanted to complete them as quickly as possible. The sooner she finished her schoolwork, the more time she would have to practise for her performances.

In her room, Rachel put her school bag away, changed out of her school clothes into a black tank top and yoga slacks, then headed to the kitchen to start mopping up the floor. She still had many chores to get through before her fathers got home.

As she cleaned, she thought about her undone schoolwork. Her fathers rarely allocated time for her to study at home, assuming those would be completed in school but they still expected her to keep her grades up and top her cohort in all her subjects. She sighed, it was not that hard, honestly, most of her classmates exhibited a shocking lack of interest in or commitment to their academic development. It was appalling to see how, when her teachers asked questions during class discussions, hers would often be the only hand raised to offer her opinion. How could they be so terribly rude and disrespectful as to not respond to a directly asked question? Most of them probably didn't have an opinion anyway, considering how little they listened in class, more interested in talking to each other and passing notes around about completely irrelevant and inconsequential topics such as the latest fashion trends and who was invited to the upcoming parties.

She was glad that her fathers, at least, had had the foresight to help her to skip a grade in second grade to help her be more challenged academically. This meant she was the youngest in her grade now, but it was a small price to pay in exchange for the few intelligent students in her grade who provided her with added intellectual stimulation. It would look good on her transcript too and she needed all the help she could get to get to New York, to NYADA.

This year was going to be a more challenging year, though, and it was going to be harder to remain on top. She was taking all 4 AP classes that McKinley was offering to sophomores – AP English, AP Chemistry, AP Calculus and AP Psychology. Only 2 other students in her year, Quinn Fabray and Michael Robert Chang, were doing the same course load.

Rachel finished mopping the kitchen and went to the washroom to rinse the mop and pail. On her way out, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and grimaced. RuPaul, she thought bitterly, as she brought the mop and pail out to the living room to clean up the rest of the house. They were right, she did look hideous, uglier even than a cross-dressing guy would. Especially her nose, it was too big, and stuck out prominently on her face like a botched nose job. Or as Santana would say, "her ginormous honker". And it wasn't just her nose. Her hair and eyes were too plain, her jaw too square, her chest too flat, her body too shapeless, her tummy and thighs too fat.

She sighed and stared down at her hands – ManHands, Quinn had called them earlier that day. The name calling was, by now, a regular occurrence done by almost everyone in school but she would have been deceiving herself if she said it didn't hurt. What hurt most was the names were all true, and nothing brought home the point more than having the prettiest girl in school say them. Quinn Fabray was the model of perfection – Blonde hair, beautiful emerald green eyes, perfectly tall and slim, with curves in just the right places. She'd never felt her hands before but she bet they were really soft and feminine too. Rachel was pretty sure a girl like Quinn was too good for a school like McKinley.

Quinn Fabray was Head Cheerleader, the first sophomore Captain of the Nationals-winning Cheerios squad. She was extremely smart, mega popular, and dating star quarterback Finn Hudson. Everyone loved her, she was like a beautiful angel, even looked like an angel, her face innocent and pure, her movements graceful, twirling around in her too-short Cheerios skirt. Except when she turned on her HBIC attitude. Then she became more like an ice queen, spewing cutting vicious remarks from her deceptively angelic and perfectly shaped mouth, words that tore you down and left your self esteem in shreds. And against Rachel, she was the worst, she seemed to have a personal vendetta against her. Towards Rachel, Quinn was like the White Witch of Narnia, like a pristine picture of evil, beautiful and deadly.

Rachel wondered why. Quinn was the queen of the school, her position as McKinley's first sophomore Cheerio captain placing her rungs above any Senior Cheerio or the captain of any jock squad, whereas Rachel resided alone on the lowest rung of the proverbial social ladder. She was no threat to her at all, she was the girl that even the other unpopular kids found pleasure in bullying sometimes, just to make themselves feel better.

In fact, it was Quinn who had made her this way, when she transferred in during junior high. Before Quinn arrived, Rachel had been a nobody, no one sat with her during lunch or waved to her in the corridors but at least her seating partners would talk to her in class on occasion or be willing to work with her for group projects. Quinn had waltzed in halfway through the school year, charming everyone with her extraordinary beauty and her spectacular cheerleading moves and when she was quickly promoted to Captain of the Cheerio junior squad, no one had objected to her proclaiming herself as HBIC, not even Santana, the previous shoo-in for Captain.

And Quinn had hated Rachel from day one, declaring her public enemy number one. In fact, on the day Quinn was appointed Captain, her first act as HBIC was to order all her Cheerios to buy a slushy each and one by one splash them into Rachel's face, while she stood behind the line of Cheerios and looked on, arms akimbo, smirking in satisfaction. When the whole fiasco was over, she strutted over and called her "Gayberry", telling her that she was a freak of nature for having two homosexual fathers and she did not understand how such a monstrosity could be allowed in their school. The next day, Quinn had formed and was president of both the Celibacy Club and the Christ Crusaders, and Rachel's place at the lowest echelon at school was cemented forever, the morning slushy facials a daily reminder of that.

She finished cleaning the whole house and returned to the washroom to clean the mop and pail and put it away. She kept her eyes firmly on the floor, she wasn't going to look in the mirror again. If she did, she would start despairing of ever making it to Broadway with such a repulsive appearance and she was not going to think like that. She was going to practise every waking moment, she was going to perform on Broadway and she would make her fathers so proud of her. And after that… she smiled, hope shining in her eyes. One day, she thought to herself, one day.

...

"Quinn, put away your work and come down for dinner. Your father will be home soon."

"Yes, mother," Quinn replied as she saved the document on her laptop and tidied her desk. It had been an unproductive afternoon, her mind constantly preoccupied with thoughts of her father but at least she had finished most of her work. She was only left with AP Calculus, and could afford to wait on that, the first mock test was still 2 weeks away. She looked at her mother who was still standing at the door. She never came into her room, and Quinn wondered if it was because she knew what happened in here. It didn't matter anyway, her mother would never do anything that went against her father's wishes.

"Good evening, father," she greeted as her father walked into the house. Her father hung up his coat, and walked past her wordlessly to take his seat at the head of the dinner table where dinner was already waiting. Judy followed suit, and then Quinn, each knowing the order and their place in it.

"Say grace, Quinn."

"Bless this food O Lord, and ourselves to Thy loving service; that we may always continue in Thy faith and fear to the honor and glory of Thy Name, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Russell picked up his cutlery and cut into his steak. As he placed the first bite in his mouth, Judy followed, then Quinn. For a while, only the tinkling of metal utensils against china plates could be heard.

"How are the Cheerios doing, Quinnie?"

"Very good, mother. Regionals are next month and we are the favourites to win and move on to our 8th consecutive Nationals." Quinn said proudly with a slight smile. She was very proud of her Squad and the routines that they had perfected under the tutelage of Coach Sylvester. It wasn't easy captaining a team of girls most of whom were older than her. But she was better and fitter than all of them, could perform way more advanced stunts than they could, and worked harder than all of them, so they had eventually grown to accept her as Captain. In time, they had even begun to respect the way she had pulled the entire team together to accomplish their most complicated routines yet, instilling fear in the slackers so that everyone knew that nothing short of perfection was acceptable.

"That's great, Quinnie…" Judy began but was abruptly interrupted by Russell.

"They had better be good, do you know how much I've donated to that squad so that you can win Nationals again?"

"Yes, father, thank you," Quinn replied politely although she fumed quietly inside. Nationals weren't just won with money, she and the girls had had to put in a lot of blood, sweat and tears into the practices. But of course, her father would claim credit for every accomplishment in her life, she thought bitterly. She kept her comments to herself and smiled perfunctorily at her father.

"How are your grades?" Russell queried. "Are you letting that gay girl beat you again?"

Quinn assumed 'gay girl' referred to Rachel Berry. Judging by the looks Rachel often threw at Quinn's boyfriend Finn when she thought Quinn was not looking, Quinn was fairly certain Rachel was not gay, just the daughter of two gays. Plus there were far likelier candidates for lesbianism at school, including some of the girls on her Cheerios squad. But she knew her father was speaking about Rachel mainly because that's whom he always talked about. In fact, Quinn thought bitterly, he talked about Rachel far more often than he talked about his own daughter.

"No, father, I'm not. I'm trying my best in all my classes. We're both taking the same AP classes and we have a Calculus mock test coming up in two weeks," she offered.

"Purchase whatever practice books you need," Russell told her. "You had better do better than that girl, you hear me? Do you know what _one of her fathers_ said to me today?" Quinn sighed. Of course, one of Rachel's fathers had to go and rile her father up despite knowing that Russell considered himself a good Christian man who was too good to associate with gays. That dwarf couldn't stop annoying her even when she was home.

"He was boasting to me that his little bitch skipped a grade last time so technically, she's topping your cohort despite being 1 year younger."

Quinn's eyes widened in surprise. That would explain why the munchkin was so puny. She did not know why, but now, knowing the smaller girl was actually younger than her, she felt a little guilty at laughing whenever the bigger jocks shoved her into the lockers just to see her fly. Still, she thought fiercely, banishing the guilt, she shouldn't be surprised, who asked her to be so damn smart anyway? She should have just stayed in her own grade and kept out of Quinn's.

"I'll try my best, sir," she promised her father, although she sighed inwardly, knowing that her father would forever be using this against her. If she beat Rachel now, it was only because she was older but if Rachel beat her, it was a disgrace that Quinn would allow herself to be shown up by a younger girl who was also the product of an abomination. She could never win.

"That faggot barely made lower management but he thinks he can boast to me! I'm his boss's boss's boss. I'm telling you, you had better put her properly in her place tomorrow. That family needs to know where they stand in our good upstanding Christian community. We are Fabrays and this is our town. No one messes with us, do you hear me?"

"Yes, father."

"Good. I'll be up later to check on your work."

They finished the rest of their dinner in silence.

…

Rachel washed the dirty washcloths and smiled happily. She had finished mopping the floors, cleaning the windows and had now just finished wiping down all the furniture. The house was sparkling clean and she still had an hour before her fathers came home. She stretched her tired muscles and headed down to the basement. She had a dance routine to perfect.

…

Quinn stared at the mathematical equations in front of her. Her heart was thumping fast within her chest, and it was not because her father was coming up to check on her schoolwork and she had not started on any of the AP Calculus questions yet. She knew what "check on your work" was code for.

I'm not going to get any more work done tonight, she decided. Might as well get an early night's rest before father visits. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, as though they were responsible for her traitorous thoughts.

Quinn dozed lightly, unable to settle down properly, until footsteps shook her awake. She briefly considered faking sleep, then discarded the idea. Her father always just woke her right up, even when she really was sleeping.

Quinn was sitting up in bed, knees hugged to her chest when Russell entered the room. "Father," Quinn greeted out of habit. She released her knees from her tight grip and gave one last pleading look at her father, hoping against hope for some kind of reprieve from him.

"Lie down," was the only response from her father. "On top of your blankets."

Slowly, Quinn pushed herself from her seated position onto the bed, trying desperately to postpone the inevitable. When she was finally lying supine, she closed her eyes and turned away. She may be forced to feel it, but she didn't need to see it as well.

**[Warning: Triggers ahead!]**

Her night dress was lifted from her legs and thrown haphazardly over her chest. Rough hands pulled her underwear down to her ankles and removed them completely. She heard the removal of a belt buckle and the dropping of trousers, then the foot of her bed dipped as an extra weight joined her on it. Her father's large hands parted her thighs forcefully and rubbed between her legs. She could feel the pressure inside her building up, pulsating strongly deep down in her abdomen and she squeezed her eyes tightly. She hated this part, hated that her body always betrayed her like this.

Russell stuck two fingers into Quinn's vagina and smiled when he felt the wetness. She was ready.

Quinn felt the fingers invade her most private parts and clenched tightly. It never stopped the next part, though, as the familiar pressure entered her and all she felt was pain as he thrusted into her over and over again. To distract herself, she ran the new Cheerios routine in her head, over and over again, the only thing ingrained deeply enough into her head that her mind was still capable of recalling. Ten minutes later, he pulled out of her and Quinn relaxed in her bed, clamping her thighs together. _It was over._

"Come here." Russell commanded.

Quinn opened her eyes, and propped herself up by the forearms. "Sir?"

"I do not like to repeat myself."

Quinn crawled to the foot of the bed where her father was standing. She noticed her underwear was beside his feet on the floor but did not move to get it. "Yes sir?"

Russell only pointed expectantly at his glowing flaccid member. "Clean it."

Quinn knew what she had to do. She lowered herself to the floor and wrapped her father's penis in her mouth. A wave of nausea hit her but she swallowed it down and continued to work at it. 5 minutes later, it was hard again.

She crawled back onto the bed and lay down to her original position. She knew what to expect, she only hoped this would be the last time. Sometimes, it seemed as though he could go on forever.

"No. Turn over." He smirked when he saw Quinn shoot up in bed.

"No!" Quinn shouted, eyes wide open and staring at her father.

Russell strode over in two large strides and grabbed the front of Quinn's night dress, pulling her up into a kneeling position on the bed.

"Plea…lease, you only do that when I…I've done something wr…wrong and I…I haven't, no…not today." Quinn stammered. The fury in her father's eyes was terrifying.

"When I tell you to do something, I expect immediate unquestioning obedience, do you understand me?"

Quinn closed her eyes, unable to look at her father any longer. "But why?" she heard herself question, voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I said so. Because I enjoyed myself so much last night, I would like seconds. Did I raise a daughter who needs more than a "I said so" to obey me? Do you need another lesson?" He picked up his belt from the floor and waved it threateningly at her.

Quinn hung her head, knowing she had lost. Even if she refused, he would beat her until she was too exhausted to fight back, then take her forcefully anyway. She bent over from her kneeling position on the bed and pointed her bottom towards her father. At least this way, she did not have to look at him when he did it.

Russell gripped the sides of his daughter's hip tightly. He loved this. Judy never agreed to do it, only Quinn would. Directing his erect member to the entrance of Quinn's anal canal, he thrust forward violently in one swift motion and was rewarded with a ear-piercing scream. God, she was so tight.

Quinn screamed as she felt pain rip through her bottom. She could think of nothing else, her entire mind was consumed by the pain. God, how could such a small part of her body cause her this much pain. She arched her back and screamed again when she felt him pull out completely, then slam it all the way back in, putting his whole body weight against her.

**[/End Warning]**

5 minutes later, it was over. Quinn heard the rustling of fabric as her father adjusted his clothes. He picked up his belt and left, slamming the door behind him. Quinn released a breath she hadn't even been sure she was holding in, and collapsed into a fetal position, curling up tightly.

At least he hadn't hit her. It had been months since he had done that and she'd had to stay home from school for 3 days until the belt marks faded because her Cheerios uniform could not hide anything from staring eyes and she knew better to show up at school in civilian clothing for fear of bringing Coach's wrath down on her.

This hurt less, but somehow, it felt so much worse. She crawled out of bed and stumbled to her adjoining toilet to take a shower. The change of clothes she had prepared earlier was already sitting on the counter top and she felt her breathing hitch as she realized how this had become a routine for her since it had first happened a year ago. She switched on the water and did not bother waiting for it to warm up before she sprayed it between her legs, scrubbing hard with a sponge, determined to wash it all off. She moved the showerhead to her bottom and scrubbed even more vigorously. She only hoped what happened tonight wouldn't become a routine as well.

…

"Rachel, I'm home," Hiram said as he walked down the stairs to the basement. The house was very clean, which told him that Rachel was already home and for quite some time as well. Rachel herself, however, was nowhere in sight, and had not replied his greeting, so Hiram knew that there was only one place in the house his daughter could be. Judging by the soft strains of music floating up from the lower level, he was right.

He stood at the base of the staircase and watched Rachel dance. Sweat dripped from her body and loose strands of her hair that had fallen out of her bun stuck to her face but she continued to move gracefully and flawlessly to the music, not a step out of place. When she twirled, he could see that her brows were slightly narrowed in concentration and her eyes held a gleem of determination. That she hadn't noticed him standing at the side just showed how focused she was. He didn't understand all the technicalities of dancing and performing like Leroy did, but he loved watching her dance all the same. She always seemed to come alive, it was like she was born to perform. Work was busy, however, and he usually only got to watch her dance at competitions. Standing in the basement watching her dance with the same intensity as when she danced on stage, he was so proud of the daughter he and Leroy had raised.

As his eyes adjusted to the evening dimness in the basement, he could see from the distance, the welts and cuts on Rachel's shoulders that weren't covered by the tank top, and he winced guiltily, remembering the morning's punishment. He always wondered if Leroy was too strict on Rachel but Rachel seemed to not mind, never protesting the punishments and always apologizing and thanking him afterwards. And Rachel herself had turned out just fine. She clearly loved both her fathers and was not afraid of either of them.

She had always been an early developer too. Hiram remembered the precocious 4-year-old, perfectly poised and smiling brightly as she offered hors d'oeuvres to his colleagues at their dinner parties, carrying out polite and eloquent small talk with them, all of whom towered over her little figure, at least twice her height. She had always been his little angel, his pride and joy, and his colleagues affirmed that sentiment, praising him for having raised such a sweet and articulate little darling and wishing their "little rascals" were more like her.

Even now, she was still his little angel. She did well in school, she danced, sang and acted, and received praises from all her teachers for her "endless drive" and "extraordinary talent". They didn't even mind when sometimes, Hiram had problems paying them on time when money was a little tight. When he couldn't afford the increase in fees for Rachel's vocal lessons, they had even given him a special waiver because she was "just such a delight to teach". He smiled with pride. Maybe Leroy was right, she just needed someone to push her to help develop her to her fullest potential and Leroy had certainly done a great job at that.

Rachel jumped and spinned gracefully in the air, landing perfectly on tiptoes just as the music ended. She held the position for 3 seconds before slackening her posture. Bending over, she rested her hands on her knees and leaned on the balls of her feet, panting hard. Pain lanced through her back and she knew the housework and then dancing must have caused many of the cuts from last night and this morning to open up again. She straightened up, walking slowly to the stereo set in the corner to start the music again and jumped when she felt a familiar hand land on her sweaty arm.

"Daddy!" she identified as she spun around in shock, before composing herself. "I'm sorry I didn't notice you've come home and didn't greet you at the door." She was surprised to see him in the basement, usually it was Dad who supervised her practices. Daddy worked longer hours and often had to bring work home as well. "How was your day, sir?"

"Very good," Hiram replied with a smile. "And even better now that I got to watch my little ballerina practising."

Rachel gave a shy smile and chewed her bottom lip nervously. Daddy had been watching her? She tried to remember if she had made any mistakes, she hadn't noticed any but she was awfully tired. She hadn't been smiling, she knew that, she had been too tired to keep the smile up and this was just a practice. "Was it okay, sir?" she asked in trepidation, looking up at Hiram with hopeful eyes, trying to guess at his mood.

"It looked perfect from where I was standing," Hiram replied, lifting his right hand from Rachel's arm to point over to the staircase.

Rachel smiled with relief. He could only see her back from there and wouldn't have seen the absence of her show smile then. Her smile widened as she absorbed her father's praise. 'Perfect', he had said it was. "Thank you, Daddy!" she chirped.

Hiram replaced his hand on her head to ruffle up her hair in affection and smiled back at her.

"Daddy, don't!" Rachel said as she squirmed away, although her smile had broadened so much by now, her face looked like it was going to split open. "I'm all sweaty from dancing!" She removed two towels from the stack of clean ones beside the stereo set and offered one to her father, wiping her face with the other.

Hiram laughed and wiped his own slightly sticky hand on the proffered towel but his smile faded when he noticed the blood stains that had gotten onto Rachel's towel when she moved the towel down to clean off the sweat off her shoulders.

Rachel caught her father staring and followed his eyes to her towel. "It's okay." Rachel assured him, hiding the towel behind her back quickly, although her own smile had faded from her face as well. "I'm okay, it was just dancing that opened them up a little."

She looked back up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. "I'm sorry I didn't do well this morning and made you and Dad angry."

Hiram smiled down at his understanding daughter and ran his fingers lightly over the welts, careful not to hurt her any further. "We just want to help you be the best, you know that right?"

"Yes, Daddy," Rachel smiled at the gentle touch from her beloved father. "Thank you very much. And I'm really very grateful for all that you both do for me. I'm so sorry I disappointed you this morning, I'll do better, I promise."

"I know you'll always try your best." Hiram replied, smiling fondly. "Now what do you say you get upstairs to wash up and I'll go order some Chinese?"

Rachel beamed at her father, hope shining in her eyes. Did this mean her food restriction was over and she could finally get a full meal? 2 apples in 3 days could only go so far, and her stomach was so empty it felt like a hole had been dug in there.

Hiram laughed at his speechless, grinning daughter. Rachel losing the powers of speech was a rare occasion. "Sweet and sour tofu with vegetables good for you?"

"Yes Daddy, thank you!" Rachel would have hugged her father there and then if she wasn't still so sweaty. "I'll go wash up quickly and then go set the table!" she said as she ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, not an easy feat considering her short legs.

Hiram smiled at Rachel's enthusiasm, the girl had been downcast for the past few days and it was great to see her smile again. "Take your time, darling, Leroy will take at least 20 more minutes to get home," he called after her.


	5. Slushies

JAMES-EAI - Thank you! I'm sorry if the chapters are going to start slowing down soon, the plot is getting slightly complicated and I may need sometime to figure things out.

beverlie4055 - Thank you! Hope you like this one too.

snowdrop1026 - Oh my goodness, thank you so much for your enthusiasm! Your anger and indignation expressed at times in vulgarities gives me hope that I'm fleshing out the characters well enough to get you so pissed. I was afraid my description of the more graphic events might not be adequate because while I have a basic clinical understanding of what goes on, I (very thankfully) do not have any personal experience in these matters.  
The 4 horrible parents are meant to be hated, and while I try to give them a voice to see things from their POV and understand why they are this way, I don't in any way mean to use their admittedly very real feelings to excuse their very deplorable acts. Their feelings makes them actual people and that screws with your head I know, judging by your considerably longer rant on Hiram. It's certainly screwing with mine. It's hard to see them as real people with real feelings when you want to hate them as unfeeling monsters. But what they're doing is abuse, plain and simple, and I hope to be clear about that, and I do not condone any of it.  
I wrote Hiram in this way because I wanted to show you how fundamentally screwed up Rachel's worldview is. She has zero social life, and is thus still very immature in her emotional and social development, very innocent and naive.  
[Edit: To read about how I got the idea for this fic, please refer to Chapter 1]  
Like her on-screen character, Rachel loves Broadway (although you'll find out more reasons why later), and thinks her fathers are just helping her to achieve her dream. She has no friends, no other family; the only people in the world who "love" her are her fathers, so she justifies their punishments in her mind as just parental discipline, done because they love her. She loves them so much in return as only a little girl can. She genuinely feels sorry when she makes mistakes and is eager to make up to them for her mistakes, and she tries so hard at everything not just to avoid their punishments, but because she really wants to make them proud of her, to make them love her back. Later, we'll see why she doesn't talk about her "punishments" to anyone even though she thinks they're okay. Daddy Hiram, of course, is an idiot who sees all this love his daughter has for him, and misconstrues it completely, going so far as to abuse that love.  
Russell is just your regular pedophilic bastard who pretends to be a good man but secretly abuses his daughter. He has a past of his own, which doesn't in any way excuse him, of course. We haven't seen much of Judy yet, although the ignoring of sexual abuse in itself is terrible enough as it is, but we will see her get worse as well.  
As for Rachel and Quinn, you're right, they do need one another. Unfortunately, they hate each other now and it's going to take a lot for them to actually meet and start getting to know each other beyond their respective facades. This will not eventually be a romantic Faberry fic, though, I hope the genre labels make that clear. (Sorry, Faberry fans!)

unexpected sabotage - They will escape their families, I assure you they will. I know my fic is letting the abuse go on rather longer than expected but they'll eventually get out of there, I promise! Your question was actually _how_ they'll escape their families, and I guess you'll have to read on to find out! (: Good guess, though, that Quinn's escape will be much more difficult than Rachel's.

Filmaddict - Thank you! My goodness, I do believe you have a darker mind than I do. Thank you for your enthusiasm, though :). I'll definitely continue to write, although the more I write, the more I wonder how I'm going to help the 2 poor girls heal from all this. Maybe them trying out some of your proposed torture methods on their parents will help (just kidding).

**A/N. Sorry for the long replies to reviews, I just got so excited talking about how I got the idea for this fic and why I wrote my characters a certain way! **

**********Here's a more light-hearted chapter after the previous dark, DARK chapter. Poor Rachel, though! **Again, my apologies if this is not accurate to what actually goes on in American high schools. Corrections and clarifications are very much welcomed. I'm not from America and have not even set foot on any of the American continents, ever. Although I do wish to travel there someday. :) Also, my apologies to those who "Story Alert"-ed this and had to deal with multiple emails of re-loading of chapters. I'm still trying to figure out how to use this site.  


Chapter 5. Slushies

Rachel was still grinning as she bounced happily to school. She would have skipped if it was at all possible to skip while dragging a roller bag behind her. It was amazing what one great day could do to someone. She hugged herself as she recalled how her Daddy had called her 'darling' and said her practice was 'perfect'. Even Dad had not had any objections to her taking an early night after dinner since she had slept so little the night before. She had completed her 10 clicks on the elliptical easily under 1 hour this morning and had then run her through her dance routine 3 consecutive times and all 3 had met Dad's satisfaction so she had gotten to have breakfast too. Oats and a fresh fruit salad, she smiled at the memory and the slight fullness in her stomach. Dad had even given her an extra apple to eat on the way to school. She munched on it merrily, the contrast between this moment and yesterday morning not lost on her.

Plus it was Thursday, so tomorrow would be TGIF!

It was a great morning.

…

What a terrible morning, Quinn thought, as she drove.

Her father had acted as though nothing had happened last night. The only thing he'd said to her was, "Fabrays do not stutter and stammer like godless hobos. We express our opinions loud and clear, understand?"

Quinn guessed he was referring to her pleading with him the previous night and cringed internally as she remembered how pathetically she had begged him not to. Of course her stuttering was the only thing he would talk about from last night, the other events of his nighttime visit did not happen in 'good Christian households' like hers.

"Yes father, I understand."

Her mother on the other hand, had ignored her the entire morning. Surely she must have heard her screaming last night, but she acted like nothing had happened, like Quinn did not even exist. She hadn't even _looked_ at Quinn, much less asked if she was alright. Quinn guessed she shouldn't have been surprised, that was her mother's modus operandi – Don't ask, don't tell. Deny anything and everything bad, they don't exist if you pretend they don't.

At least she had been able to get ready for school quickly, eager to get out of the house, so today, she would be the earliest at Cheerios practice.

Practice was going to be hell today, though, she thought bitterly. Her butt and thighs had ached badly enough yesterday but today, just about everything hurt. The workout Coach had put her through yesterday afternoon had been exhausting and 2 consecutive nights of being taken… She winced, refusing to even think those words. She had showered for an hour last night and another half an hour this morning but she could still smell him on her, she always could. Apparently no one else ever did, though. She prayed fervently that it would stay this way. The only thing that could be worse that what had happened was if others knew about them.

Still, at least she had marching orders from him to "put Rachel properly in her place" today, and that was something she would more than gladly do, if only so she wouldn't be the only one having a bad day. Making Rachel's school life a living hell was her favourite sport, and that girl deserved it for what she did to Quinn's home life. It was only fair. Thinking of the things she could do to ManHands brought a smile to her face at last, it was so much easier to focus on that. And the best part of being HBIC was, she didn't even need to get her hands dirty. All she needed to do was give out the orders, then sit back, relax, and enjoy the lovely show that was the humiliation of Rachel Berry, directing it from behind the scenes.

Spying Rachel's figure bouncing along on the pavement, her smile turned back into a scowl. She honked loudly at her and laughed as Rachel jumped in fright, and this time, did fall onto the grass by the pavement. She sped off, leaving her in the dust of her exhaust fumes.

_This is just the start of the day from hell you're going to be getting from me today, bitch._

…

A few hours later, all traces of Rachel's previous good mood had vanished.

Tears prickled in the corner of her eyes and she furiously blinked them away. Insults to her face, she could fight back with clever retorts and veiled insults that they were too stupid to understand. But all day long, the whispers behind her back, notes about her and crude pornographic drawings of her passed around in class to every desk but her own that they made sure she could catch a glimpse of but never managed to touch much less crumple up and throw in the dustbin… she had nothing to fight them back with besides a cheerful smile and head held high. She was determined to act unfazed, to not show them how much they hurt, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

It had all started when she stepped into school and was met immediately with a slushy facial from a Senior footballer. Nothing new, she just retrieved her spare set of clothes from the locker and headed to the toilet nearest her homeroom to change, planning as usual to take the shortest route to her homeroom so as to avoid the jocks for the rest of the morning. She was usually safe once she got to the classrooms.

Unfortunately, she'd barely taken one step out of the washroom before two more slushies hit her face, both from freshmen basketballers. Which was odd, because she had never even met either one of them before, much less received a slushy from them. Slightly more disgruntled, she repeated the whole process once more, retrieving her second set of clothes from her lockers and changing into them, but again, she'd barely taken two steps out of the washroom before she was met with yet another slushy.

She had been going to retrieve her third and last set of spare clothes from her locker when two more slushies hit her, the owners of which didn't even deign to speak to her, walking away before she managed to clear the slush from her eyes to see who they were. Beginning to see the pattern here, she recognized wisely that there was no point in changing her clothes and wasting the only set of clean clothes she had left. Apparently, today was 'Slushy the Berry Day'.

As she walked down the corridor covered in cherry and blueberry slush, it was hard not to realize that everyone was holding slushies, even her fellow Glee teammates, and she was being greeted with slushy after slushy with every step she took, from every single person she met. She was not just humiliated, she was hurt – she'd thought she had at least made some friends in Glee but here they were, participating in the bullying that they too had suffered before and, she was certain, hated just as much as she did. A few of them – Mike, Tina, Mercedes and Kurt – at least had the decency to look apologetic when they poured their slushies over her clothes, 'kindly' allowing her to avoid the stinging pain of ice in her eyes. Not that it was of much use, because by the time she reached her homeroom, her eyes were stinging anyway, blinded by repeated slushies thrown in her face, and she was dripping wet from her long hair right down to her Mary Janes and sock-clad feet. You couldn't even tell the original colour of her headband or her clothes anymore. Even her undergarments felt wet and sticky against her body.

This went on the entire day. Slushies met her every time she walked in the hallways between classes. Teachers and students alike openly stared at her drenched figure shivering and dripping icy beverage but no one said a thing, not to her at least. The cleaners shot her dirty looks as she dripped multi-coloured ice everywhere she went, staining their clean floors. Larger puddles that littered the hallways indicated the spots where the numerous slushy attacks had occurred.

It was in the break before the last period that she finally got her answers as to why the whole school seemed to have launched an all-out attack on her.

Her Biology teacher, Mr Simons, had given them time to work on their lab reports in the last 10 minutes of lesson. Since she had already completed and submitted her report, he took pity on her shivering form and gave her a hall pass to "go wash up". She had spent the precious 10 minutes removing most of the slush from her face and hair, although she wondered why – It was pointless, the moment she stepped out of the washroom, she would be covered in slushy all over again. But it was too early to go to her last period classroom, which was still occupied by an ongoing lesson, and she desperately wanted to feel clean, even if just for ten short minutes. She squatted under the hand dryer to regain some warmth, she could barely feel her lips and was certain the bluish tinge was not simply from a blueberry slush. She'd never realized how much worse slushies could get but this had to be the worst ever.

The bell signaling the end of the second last period rang, and Rachel quickly slipped into one of the cubicles. The washrooms had lost their usual safety from slushy attacks when some members of the AV club, too embarrassed to slushy her in the hallway, had taken to slushy-ing her between 1st and 2nd period while she was washing her hands in the toilet. She really wanted to enjoy clean hands and a clean face for a while more before the slushying began all over again and decided she would hang out there until the bell for last period rang. Maybe the stragglers would be too busy rushing to class that she could avoid getting slushied. She'd realized a few periods back that she could afford to be late for her classes when she walked in looking like a drowned rat who had just gotten a really bad dye job. She hadn't even brought any of her school books to her classes all day, because the walk to her lockers afforded her schoolmates too many opportunities to slushy her, and she also did not want to get any of her books wet and dirtied. But none of the teachers seemed to mind, or if they minded, they hadn't bothered to comment on it. In fact, none of her teachers except Mr Simons had said anything to her all day.

Her appearance spoke for itself, she supposed, she thought self-deprecatingly.

She replaced the cover of the toilet bowl and sat down on it with a sigh. Seriously, what was going on today? Yesterday had been a perfectly normal day – two slushies in the morning that had warranted only one change of clothes, and a smattering of insults and name-calling from a few Cheerios, hockey players, and footballers. True, she rarely yelled back at the Karofsky and Azimio when they slushied her but they had been toying with her, making fun of her for their teammates' entertainment and it was infuriating. She doubted they even understood half the words she'd used on them anyway.

Two girls whose voices she did not recognize walked into the toilet talking loudly to each other.

"Have you slushied Rachel yet?"

"Nope, I haven't. Do you think Quinn would notice if I didn't? It's kinda hard to catch that small girl, she's been running from classroom to classroom all day."

Rachel kept as silent and still as possible, praying that amidst the slushy stained school, they wouldn't notice that the slush in this toilet ended at the cubicle she was currently residing in and if they did, they wouldn't guess that she was still hiding in there.

"Yeah," the other girl replied, giggling. "Have you seen her, though? It's hilarious, she's like a rainbow-coloured lollipop."

"Yeah, I feel kind of bad for her though. I mean, slushies really suck. You remember when I bumped into that hockey guy Rick and he ordered his freshmen lackies to slushy me? It was freaking cold, my eyes _burned_ and I had nightmares about it for a week."

"Yah well, she's used to it, she gets them all the time. She ought to win some kind of award for being the most slushied student in the history of McKinley." More giggles. "Plus have you actually _seen_ her? You couldn't make her look any worse than she already does. She has _hundreds_ of slushies coming her way today and one more from you isn't going to make much of a difference."

"I suppose. I wonder what she did for Quinn to do this to her."

"Dunno. Does it matter? She's the Cheerios captain, we do whatever she tells us to, even though we're juniors and she's just a sophomore. Quinn is to us, as... Coach Sylvester is to the Cheerios. You don't question her orders, you just obey."

"Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die*," the other girl recited.

"Speaking of die, you're going to be the one that gets _dyed_ in slush if you don't find Rachel soon." Both girls laughed out loud at the pun.

"Yup." A sigh. "And I wouldn't put it past Cheerios Captain Quinn Fabray to get her entire Cheerios squad to keep count of the slushies and make sure everyone obeys her. She really does hate that Rachel kid. What did that text say again? 'Everyone who doesn't slushy Rachel Berry today gets a daily slushy facial each, next week'. Brrr, I would hate to get one _everyday_, I'll turn into a snowman by Wednesday! My mom would _never_ let me miss an entire week of school either."

"Better go find her quickly then. Though it beats me why she's still in school. If I were her, I would have run on home hours ago."

Ah, mystery solved, Rachel thought bitterly. Quinn had ordered everyone in school to deliver her a slushy, hence the dozens she'd had already. She supposed she also had Quinn to thank for the drawings and notes being passed around about her in class, but that could also be because she looked like a… what did that girl call her? A rainbow-coloured lollipop. She scoffed. As insults go, that was actually pretty mild, and more or less accurate. However, there were exactly 212 students in this school, which meant there was more than a hundred more slushies to go before she could go home. Plenty of time for them to try and make her look even more ridiculous.

Home. She couldn't wait until everyone in school had left and she could retrieve her precious last set of clean clothes to change into. Unfortunately, Daddy would certainly query her about the extraordinary number of school clothes she was going to have to wash today. She sighed. And before she headed home, she still had to get through last period, lunch and Glee. Glee where she would have to face her teammates, all of whom had already slushied her today, minus Brittany, Artie and surprisngly, Quinn herself.

Quinn would never do anything to Brittany, you didn't mess with Santana's girl ever, even if you're the Head Cheerio, not if you treasured all four of your limbs. She wondered if Artie would slushy her in the choir room, and realized she would much rather stand still for Artie to slushy her outside the choir room, like at the cafeteria or somewhere, than to taint their precious choir room like that. Besides, with all her rushing around today, Artie probably couldn't catch up to her, and she would hate to be the reason for the wheelchair-bound kid to be slushied daily for one whole week. Without the use of his legs, it was a lot more difficult for him to wash the slush off than it was for her.

_But maybe it's easier for him, because he actually has friends to help him with the cleaning up_, she thought bitterly, recalling the number of times she had been one of those friends helping him.

The bell for the last period rang, and Rachel reluctantly emerged from the cubicle to a thankfully empty washroom, to once again face the horror of McKinley High. At least she had dried somewhat and did not feel like she was going to die of hypothermia anymore. She was already late for last period, so with some luck, she wouldn't meet anyone in the halls. Normally, she liked crowds, liked to watch people, and was a stickler for punctuality especially when it came to lessons. She briefly wondered how one stupid morning could have changed her so much, and when meeting people had become equivalent to being met with slushies.

…

Quinn smiled as she looked down at her phone.

_Santana and Brittany asked me to sleepover with them, Friday afternoon until Sunday morning. Can I go? – Quinn  
Ask your father. – Mother  
Father, may I please sleepover with Santana and Brittany on Friday night? I'll be home on Sunday morning before church. – Quinn  
Ok – Father_

Yes! This was great news on top of what has already been an awesome day that had almost helped her to forget her horrible night.

Mobilising everyone in school to slushy Rachel today had been so fun to watch – The look on the dwarf's face was priceless! At the start of the day, she had looked angry and indignant but now, she just looked miserable and confused, walking around looking down at the floor, one arm thrown over her face to shield her eyes, not even bothering to see where the slushies were coming from or who was throwing them.

And the cleaners and teachers, they were all staring openly, dumbfounded at the chaos that had erupted in their school! Those cleaners sure looked like they were going to murder Rachel every time she trampled through on their previously clean floors.

She hadn't actually thought that the Glee kids would turn on one of their own and join in the 'Slushy Rachel Fest' but apparently the dwarf had more enemies than she thought she had. Or maybe it was that they feared Quinn would really carry out her threat. Quinn couldn't believe that she had done all these with just one simple WhatsApp message to the school. Quinn's head was giddy with power at the realisation of just how much influence she had in this school.

Quinn herself had not participated in the slushy-throwing, which would have been unsatisfactory seeing as Rachel wasn't even looking at her tormentors anymore. She'd chosen a more subtle route instead, passing around pornographic drawings and crude notes about Rachel around, notes which of course went to every table but Rachel's. Since they shared most of their classes, this had meant that the shivering girl was surrounded by much whispering and sniggering the entire day, such that it was impossible for her to not hear or notice it even if she was sitting right in front of the classroom.

Rachel was not going to get any safe haven today. Slushies out in the hall, whispering and note-passing in the classrooms. This sense of power was intoxicating. She felt so great, so gratifying, especially compared to how pathetic she had felt last night. At home, she may be weak but not here in school. She was the Head Bitch In Charge, and people better damn well know that. She was a Fabray, after all.

Life was good at the top.

***Disclaimer: These lines were altered from 'Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die' from the poem "The Charge of the Light Brigade" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson about the charge of the Light Brigade at the Battle of Balaclava during the Crimean War. I take no credit! **


	6. Alone, Not Alone

snowdrop1026 - Yes, I had fun writing about slushies, despite how sorry I felt for Rachel at the same time. Too much darkness in the previous chapters eats at your soul. Although I must say, I was appalled to see the slushies when I watched the first Glee episode. I hope they don't actually happen in real American schools? If they did, I might say the same thing back to you about your school teachers, haha. Anyway, I don't think you're mad at me. But others who read my fics might misunderstand my explanations for their abusive behaviour as excuses for and acceptance of such behaviour, so I wanted to make that absolutely clear that I don't approve.  
Quinn oh Quinn, partly she was saving herself, but honestly, her dad wouldn't really know or care how much she was hurting Rachel emotionally, I would think it's the awards and grades that he can show off to others that he cares more about. She's enjoying her power a little too much, and to be honest, all she did was send out a text and everyone obeyed, that kind of influence she has must be quite exhilerating, especially after her dad made her feel so weak the previous night. She partly blames Rachel for her sucky home life, unjustifiedly of course, but she feels she has to blame someone so why not the girl that everyone already hates, the girl her father hates, and the girl who somehow still seems to "have it all"? She'll learn Rachel's secrets later and her screwed up world view is going to take a beating.

fja - Hope that means you're liking the fic so far? :)

JAMES-EAI - Yup, I was trying to help you to understand the characters more, I'm glad you loved it. Thanks for loyally following my fic. I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

ajunebuga - I like how you described Russell - "acting through deviant lust and has severe psychological issues". His story is something I'm still struggling with, to be honest, like you, I'm also much more inclined towards Rachel's. You're right, Quinn fully knows his actions are wrong, but for the life of me I can't figure out why she's channelling her inner Russell to the world instead of getting the hell out of that house. I guess I'll just see where my inner muse takes me. (I'm kidding, I have a rough plot line for her already but while my head understands why, my heart doesn't). As for Rachel, you're right her recovery is going to be long and hard. I pity the people who'll be rescuing her, they've got their work cut out for them (I smile a deviant smile because I know exactly who her rescuer(s) is/are, haha). And thank you for noticing that bit about Rachel's "one day...". I wrote that in after I wrote a later part of this fic. She has grand plans, that girl, her Broadway dreams are big and dramatic, although unlikely to come true XD

**A/N. Again, I'm not an American, so please forgive me if my description of your laws and authorities are way off base! If you can spare the time, please correct me so I can understand your country better!  
Next chapter, I'll be revealing my country of origin in the Author's Note, not just for the sake of it but because it's relevant for you to understand where I'm coming from with regards to my perspective on certain issues I discuss in this fic. I would really like it if you tried to guess which country I come from! I'm intrigued to hear your guesses :D**

Chapter 6. Alone/Not Alone

"You called me a Nenterdal yesterday."

'Way to state the obvious and still get it wrong, Karofsky,' Rachel thought as she looked up to see that it was indeed David Karofsky, with Azimio Adams standing beside him. _As if he needs the backup anyway._

"I didn't," she informed him. "I called you a Ne-An-Der-THal."

It wasn't like he could do anything worse to her already over-slushied self today. Might as well take advantage of that and vent her frustrations a little, with more words that confused his puny miniscule brain. Anyway, it wasn't like she was really hurting his feelings - the way he said that word, he obviously still didn't know what it meant.

"That's what I said, bitch." Karofsky shouted, raising his voice as he slammed his palm against the lockers.

Rachel jumped and decided she should perhaps thread a little more warily. Even though Karofsky had never hit her before, just shoved her around a little, he was not a person you wanted to get angry at you, he was practically 3 times her size.

"I couldn't find it in the dictionary because I didn't know how to spell it."

Rachel gulped. Oops, she could see what this was going.

"I had to ask my father what the word meant. He asked me what I'd done for someone to call me 'uncivilized, unintelligent and uncouth'."

Rachel eyes bulged and she couldn't help the giggles that escaped from her. Honestly, who asked their parents to explain to them the meanings of insult-words? That he had done that, plus the fact that he had not even known what the word meant just proved Rachel's point that he was indeed a Neanderthal.

However, when Rachel looked up, her giggling stopped abruptly. Karofsky and Azimio both looked seriously pissed.

"You think it's funny, huh? You think you're smarter than everyone? Prancing around on stage saying you're going to be famous and a star on Broadway." Karofsky shouted, smashing his fist into the lockers this time. "You better watch your mouth unless you want a taste of the Fury." He shook his fist at Rachel. It was practically the size of her head. Rachel had to admit that she was getting quite frightened.

"Yeah! You know, the only thing that's saving you right now is my moral code. I don't hit girls." Azimio added, snarling.

"Although it's hard to tell whether or not you're a girl, Tranny."

"Clothes like a granny but face and body looks more like RuPaul. You're right, can't tell either way."

Rachel glared furiously at them, although she wisely kept silent.

"Cat got your tongue, bitch?"

"Yeah, gayberry, no more vocabulary you would like to show off? Aren't you normally yabbering on and on and annoying the hell out of all of us?"

"On and on about your two GAY DADS. Can't stand the three of you, walking around this town like you own it. You're _disgusting_. Why aren't you telling us how perfect and wonderful they are now, huh? How much they love you…"

Rachel turned her head sharply when Azimio's insults moved from her to her fathers and Karofsky knew his friend had hit the nail right on the head. He jumped right in to go for the kill.

"Do they looooooooove you _that _way then, freak? Is that why those faggots adopted you? Are they the ones that dress you up like a tranny, is this also their kink?"

Rachel saw red and could not take it any longer.

"You can say what you want about me, drown me in slushies for all I care, call me whatever names you want but don't you dare insult my fathers! You are disgusting filthy-minded good-for-nothing scoundrels who do not hold a candle to them." Reaching up on tiptoes, she delivered two tight slaps, one each across their smirking, mocking faces.

Silence followed the resounding slaps that reverbated through the hallway. The few passers-by who had gathered to watch the exchange stared at the smaller girl, stunned. Some of them even dropped their jaws. _No one_ hit Karofsky and Adams, ever. Rachel had just signed her own death warrant.

It seemed Rachel herself knew it as well. The moment she withdrew her hand from Azimio's face, her own face turned ashen and she squeezed her eyes shut, shielding her face with her arms and leaning back into the lockers, wishing she could disappear inside one of them. If no one in this school would stand up for her against Quinn's slushies, she was certain no one was going to lift a finger to defend her from Azimio and Karofsky's fists.

With a cry of rage, Dave and Azimio pounced on her, all thoughts of their previous 'moral code' forgotten. The two larger boys started hitting her wherever they could find an opening, which was everywhere. Rachel remained standing but was clearly having difficulties keeping upright, her body flung from one side to another with each blow as she leaned back heavily against the lockers for support. Dave and Azimio got past her arms to land several hits on her face, but most of their punches were targeted at her chest and abdomen, knocking the wind out of her and causing her to bend over in pain.

A minute later, it looked like their punches were the only things keeping her upright. Another punch to her stomach seemed to almost lift her off her feet. Her legs felt weak and she desperately wanted to collapse on the floor and curl up in a fetal position to protect herself from the blows but her outrage at their homophobic and insensitive comments directed towards her dads prevented her from allowing herself to show even that little bit more of weakness to them.

Finally, a right hook from Dave's 'Fury' slammed itself into her in the left temple and she collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

…

Sue Sylvester was having a bad day. She had just returned to McKinley from the Annual Regional Cheerleading Coaches Conference to find the normally relatively clean school grounds covered in melting sticky icy beverage. She had unwittingly stepped into a puddle of cherry slush when she had first stepped into the hallway, thus destroying a very expensive bright red pair of Adidas track shoes that she had specially ordered from Switzerland, inscribed with her initials at the bottom.

It was a different shade of red!

She was going to murder the person responsible for this calculated act of vandalism to her private property. Or people, surely one person could not possibly have caused this much damage. Was this a repeat of McKinley's Seniors vs Juniors Slushy War of 2003?

She couldn't even stalk through the hallways like she was accustomed to while looking for this miscreant. Instead, she had to pick her way through the war zone, varying the length of her strides to avoid the multi-coloured puddles of melted slush. Ugh, some of it had even mixed together to form a disgusting shade that resembled vomit.

Sue knew she turned a blind eye to the slushying, even encouraged it in her Cheerios sometimes, especially towards the Glee kids when Curly Schuester enraged her and challenged her dictatorship of the school. But this was just plain ridiculous. Someone was going to be expelled over this and if it was one of her Cheerios that started this... Well, someone else was still going to be expelled. Such barbaric vandalism was absolutely unacceptable and could not be allowed to go unpunished!

She rounded a corner and spied a crowd of students surrounding Karofsky and Adams, who were standing in front of a row of lockers. She knew them, they were starting footballers who were reputed to be quite skillful. Good. If it was the footballers who were responsible, she had no qualms about kicking them out of the school. God forbid their football team got good enough to start winning games and steal the thunder from her Cheerios' halftime shows.

As she approached the two boys, the gathered crowd scampered away, their fear of Coach Sylvester overcoming their curiosity and voyeuristic desire. Coach looked hopping mad and no one wanted to get caught in the crossfire. This wasn't going to be pretty.

The crowd parted quickly, and Sue realized there was a third person in the middle of the semicircle, a small girl with long disheveled hair and dirty clothes collapsed against the lockers on the filthy slush-covered floor, surrounded by a puddle of the very vomit-coloured slush that Sue had been studiously trying to avoid. The hulking form of the two boys contrasted starkly with the slight form of the much smaller girl who was lying at their feet. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the two bastards had beaten the girl unconscious.

She suddenly had an image of Jean being surrounded by mocking bullies and a younger version of herself pushing through the crowd to rescue her cowering, frightened elder sister.

Gently picking the unconscious form from the floor with a tenderness she didn't know she possessed towards anyone but Jean, she directed her most vicious glare at the boys.

"Go wait in my office," she ordered.

As she carried the injured child away to the nurse's office, she didn't even mind when she realized that this girl was Rachel Berry, one of Scheuster's star performers. Or that the soaking wet child in her arms, who was clearly the one responsible for the slushied state of the school, was currently staining the front of her signature red track suit.

...

Nurse Jasmine huffed a little as she tidied her medicine cabinet and made a mental note of the items that were running low and needed purchasing. She had just finished patching up a few knee abrasions and taping up a sprained ankle. Apparently, a slushy war had broken out in school, the hallways were covered by slippery wet slush, terribly dangerous for kids to be walking in, especially those girls in their insensible heels.

What's with kids these days, how is throwing drinks around fun? Dreadfully wasteful is what it is!

She did not expect to be startled out of her musings by a loud "Nurse Jasmine!" spoken by the unmistakable voice of Coach Sylvester. She spun around, her actions hastened by the sense of urgency in the cheer leading coach's voice and the fact that she _never_ called her 'Nurse Jasmine'. Usually it was 'Nurse Old Hag', 'Flower Granny' or some other bizarrely derogatory name like that.

Rushing over to the left side of the room where Sue was placing a small girl onto the treatment bed, Jasmine frowned, shaking her head. She was clearly either one of the participants in this slushy war or she had recently been dragged through the flooded hallway. All her clothes were _soaked_. Again, seriously, a slushy war in high school?

"A couple of footballers beat her," Sue offered, redirecting her attention to the girl's lack of consciousness.

Jasmine shook off her grumbling and focused on the situation at hand. The girl was clearly unconscious, unresponsive to her voice or touch. This could be bad. She tried desperately to recall her ATLS training. Nursing school was more than 40 years ago and while she had worked at the hospital for many years after graduation, the last dozen years of taping sprained ankles and managing stomach flus at this school had not exactly prepared her for situations like this.

ABC… Airway-Breathing-Circulation. Her chest wall was rising, that's a good sign. Count the number of breaths! Breathing rate's a little fast but it's even and unlaboured, that's another 'good'. She grabbed her left arm and felt the wrist for her radial pulse… regular, good rate of 80. Jasmine let out a small breath in relief. She did not appear to be in immediate danger. Probably just fainted, then.

Sue moved away from the side of the bed to its foot to remove Rachel's shoes, and Jasmine stepped forward to take her place by the bedside, in order to take a closer look at the obvious injuries on her face, mostly centered on the left side. Jasmined guessed the the girl had probably thrown up her right arm to try to shield her face.

'Try to' was right, though, Jasmine thought bitterly. _Two_ footballers, Sue was saying? The girl's lip was bleeding sluggishly from its left corner, there was a large bruise on her left temple, and the skin around her left eye was slightly swollen and discoloured – she was probably going to get an ugly black eye. But none of them looked severe enough to knock her out. She turned Rachel onto her right side to study the injuries more closely. They all appeared to be superficial.

"Is she one of our students? She's surprisingly small and light, I would have guessed that she's pre-pubertal, junior high maybe?"

"She's from McKinley High but I don't know what grade." Sue Sylvester thought for a moment. "She was around last year, so at least a sophomore."

Jasmine clucked disapprovingly, muttering under her breath about dieting teenagers.

"She's not one of your Cheerios, is she? I've never seen her in here before." Usually the only students in high school who were still so small were the cheerleaders. She had had many long and fruitless shouting matches with Sue about the dieting regimes and 'protein shakes' she enforced on her team.

"No, no she's not a Cheerio."

The Nurse obviously did not listen to the students' gossips, Sue thought to herself. No one slushied a Cheerio and got away with it. And no Cheerios worth their salt would allow footballers to beat up one of their own without calling for reinforcements and defending them. And of course, what was most obvious, no Cheerio was ever seen in school outside of their Cheerios uniform. Sue wondered why on earth she was thinking so much about her Cheerios in such a situation.

"I'll have to remove her clothes, check for more injuries. I'm not entirely convinced she just fainted, especially if she really has been beaten up. Could you please help me lock the door?"

"Should I leave as well?"

"No, I need you to stay and chaperone. It's not so bad because I'm a female as well but she is unconscious and I'm going to have to examine her without her consent. It'll be better if there's a chaperone around, ideally a teacher she's familiar with."

Sue wouldn't exactly call herself 'familiar' to Rachel Berry, a familiar nemesis perhaps, but she understood the nurse's concerns and moved to lock the door. She checked her watch, 15 minutes had passed since she sent those goons to her office. They were probably still waiting there, they wouldn't dare disobey her so directly, not if they valued their lives. She didn't care, those boys could sweat in her office for another hour. Boys who hit girls were deplorable, and boys who ganged up two-versus-one against a girl were inexcusable, despicable bastards.

Maybe she'd get lucky and one of them would pee in their pants. But hopefully not while sitting on her prized Martha Stewart cushions.

Jasmine carefully peeled the soaking wet sweater from Rachel's body. She had barely gotten it a few inches up her back before she stopped, her hand frozen mid-air.

She was a nurse, she'd seen this before. But it still sickened her, every time.

Sue heard a soft gasp behind her and turned around quickly, wondering what could have happened. The nurse was removing Rachel's sweater but had stopped halfway for whatever reason.

"Oh grow up, kids beat each other all the time, it's high school. Survival of the fittest. You're a nurse, haven't you seen a couple of bruises before?"

She moved closer to have a clearer view of what the nurse was still wordlessly staring, at and froze else well.

"Those aren't from kids."

Jasmine snapped out of her daze and glared at Sue.

"Thanks, genius."

She bent over the bed to examine Rachel's back more closely. Interspersed between long red fresh-looking welts were oval-shaped cuts and rainbow coloured bruises in various stages of healing, the textbook definition of NAI (non-accidental injury). The welts looked strange, though, unlike… Well, unlike those which she's seen before. They looked neat, almost parallel, rather unlike the other haphazard injuries strewn all over the small back.

Bile rose in her throat and she ran to the dustbin to puke out her lunch.

The girl had had to have remained very still while being beaten for someone to have placed those injuries so neatly. Jasmine wondered which was worse, hitting a girl who was already unconscious or hitting a girl who was conscious but forcing herself to stain still, allowing herself to be hit. No girl – no child – could stand still conscious through such a thorough beating without being tied down, right? But she hadn't noticed any rope marks on her wrists.

When she finished retching, she looked back at Sue, who was still standing stock still in the middle of the room, staring at Rachel's back. It seemed she hadn't moved an inch after she'd spoken those 4 words.

"Call CPS!" Jasmine snapped at Sue as she grabbed a pair of surgical gloves and rushed back to the girl. This was no longer a school incident, it was child abuse plain and simple, and the authorities needed to be notified immediately.

...

Rachel opened her eyes, then shut it tightly when light flooded in. Ow… the light _hurt_. Her head throbbed painfully, as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. The rest of her body felt heavy, weighed down like lead. What happened? And where was she?

She was lying on her right side, on some sort of… bed? A firm mattress. Gym class? It's Thursday, there's no Gym today. Karofsky, she remembered. She'd slapped him for calling her Dad a faggot. And then what? He'd hit her back. That must be why it hurts so bad now. Azimio Adams was there too, right? Owww, her head really, really hurt… How did she get from the hallway by the lockers to here, wherever "here" is, anyway? Did someone actually save her from the boys?

She tried to open her eyes again, but slowly this time, just a tiny slit so the light wouldn't hurt her eyes so much. There was a white wall in front of her. She shivered. The room was cold, or maybe it was just she that had been cold all day, her normally warm sweater soaked in icy slush.

Her sweater! She couldn't feel her sweater on her lower back! And suddenly there were hands, rubbery hands touching there, coming in direct contact with the welts on her back. No! Stop!

But the words couldn't come out of her mouth.

She flung herself backwards to try and escape the touching hands and promptly tumbled down from the treatment bed onto the floor, landing firmly on her back. Pain shot through her back and she bit back a scream, although a small hiss of pain still escaped. Propping herself up on her elbows, she schooled her facial features and tried to hide the pain she felt as that change in position just increased the pressure on her lacerated bottom. Owww, now her whole body hurt as well… And she was certain it hurt worse than before the confrontation with Karofsky and Azimio, she guessed the boys had added a few bruises of their own.

She looked up at the two adults staring down at her. Her vision was still blurred as her eyes tried to adjust to the sudden invasion of light. One of them was Coach Sylvester, it was hard to mistake her brilliant red tracksuit – What was she doing here? The other older lady, she didn't recognize, but judging by the nurse's uniform she wore, she was probably the school nurse. She was still in school, right? Her vision was clearing and she looked more closely. A glance around told her she was in the school's nurse's office.

Nurse's office, which means… Oh shit! She looked down at her half-dressed state and hastily pulled her rolled up clothes back down to cover her exposed body. This did _not_ just happen. Dad was going to be so mad when he found out.

When Jasmine saw Rachel's back slam against the floor, she winced. Yeowch! That must have hurt terribly. The girl, however, did not scream, not even an 'ouch' escaped her lips which were firmly clamped between her teeth. But she couldn't hide the pain in her eyes from the experienced nurse.

Usually, when Sue Sylvester here was in her office, it was for a Cheerio who had hurt herself after a fall during practice. Those girls, too, always tried to hide their reactions to the pain from their injuries, constantly looking to their coach for approval. But this situation was so much more complicated than a cheerleading stunt gone wrong.

Jasmine looked over at Sue now. The normally imposing lady was still in a daze, looking totally lost, and she still had not moved from her spot in the centre of the room. Jasmine could empathize. She had felt that way her first time too. However, she had no time to help the younger lady, there was a child in the room who at the moment who needed her attention far more urgently.

"Honey, I'm the school nurse, Jasmine. Ms Sylvester here is a teacher, she's the one who brought you to me, she said that some footballers hit you. We were just trying to help you."

Footballers? Right. Karofsky and Azimio, she remembered. Her head still felt too heavy to keep upright, and her thoughts were all jumbled up still.

She pulled herself up, using the treatment bed for support. "Thank you, ma'am, but I don't need help, I'm fine," she blurted out. "What time is it, is lunch period over? I need to get to Glee." She looked around frantically for a clock. "I'm already late, I have to go."

She took a step forward and lurched as her head spinned dangerously and her legs nearly buckled. Immediately abandoning the plan to escape by running away, she leaned back against the treatment bed. When she got her sense of balance back again, she looked back at the two adults. Even in her best form, she was unlikely to outrun Coach Sylvester. She was much better at using her words anyway.

"You're hurt. I'm a nurse. Let me help you," Jasmine said concernedly, reaching forward to support her.

"I'm not hurt," she insisted, and straightened her posture, glaring at the nurse when her words were met with an incredulous look.

Shit! Rachel closed her eyes, trying to keep down her panic.

'_Nothing happened, you didn't see anything, nothing happened, you didn't see anything, nothing happened, you didn't see anything_,' she chanted in her head.

"A hallway of students saw Karofsky and Adams beat you up. I carried you in here unconscious. I am standing here right now looking at your messed up face. Do you think I'm an idiot?" Sue beat the elderly nurse to replying, speaking for the first time since she first saw the welts.

She hadn't actually seen the beating, but it was a tactic she often used with students. Accuse them of the crime anyway, and the response the imbeciles gave you would often tell you if you had guessed right. She rarely had to use it on the victims, though.

Oh! Right. Rachel brought her hand up to the face and felt the bruises there. Her head hurt because she had been hit there and the bruises must be showing on her face. She pressed down where the bruises ached a little, but they weren't too bad.

Oh no, what about her nose? It didn't hurt, but she had to be sure. She pinched along the bridge of her nose firmly. The skin on the left hurt a little but at least she was sure it wasn't broken.

She smiled in relief, then startled again when she realized Sue was staring angrily at her. Boy did she look seriously pissed. Oh right, the fight. Coach Sylvester thought she was hurt from the fight.

"I'm not really hurt. I hit the boys first and they hit me back. It's nothing, really. I'm fine. Please may I go to Glee now?"

Sue Sylvester huffed in exasperation. She was not a patient woman and this midget was getting on her nerves. She couldn't help but feel sorry for her when she was unconscious just now, but now she was unfortunately awake and back to her annoying yapping self.

"Lady, I was standing right here when what's-her-name here rolled up your sweater. There were welts on your back. Those didn't come from the boys and they looked bad. You. Are. Not. Fine."

"You what?" Rachel exclaimed. She'd guessed, of course, that the two adults had seen her punishment marks when she'd woke up half undressed and felt rubbery hands on her bare back. That was probably the nurse, she still hadn't removed her surgical gloves yet. But she couldn't admit defeat, she had to deny this to the end. If this was headed down where she thought it was, she would be taken away from her fathers and she would then really be left all alone.

"You had no right. I am a minor and by the law of the state of Ohio, you cannot conduct a physical examination on me without my consent or the consent of my legal guardians. I did not give any such consent and my fathers most certainly did not! So you had no business removing my clothes like that. I could sue you for sexual harassment!"

...

Quinn hummed as she packed her bag for the sleepover, still in a good mood from the great day she'd just had. Cheerios practice had gone well, the slushy war on Rachel had been hilarious, and to top it all off, that midget hadn't even showed up for Glee today! Which was something that had never happened before, the only time Rachel Berry had missed even a minute of Glee previously was if she had a diva storm out.

There were some rumours about a bust-up between Berry and Karofsky/Adams. ManHands apparently did something to annoy the footballers, not that they ever needed much provocation to shove her around anyway. A freshman Cheerio said she saw Stubbles hit them first, although she doubted that was true – no one, not even Brittany, was dumb enough to go against those two burly footballers, it was suicide. But maybe all those slushies today had addled her brains enough to decide to go kill herself and spare everyone the torture of seeing her ugly face everyday. Quinn could only hope. Whatever it was, Glee without Rachel Berry had been a refreshing change and something to be thankful for. No annoying midget yapping away about which song selection would best show off her melodious voice for one of her numerous solos.

The dwarf had probably been too embarrassed to stay for Glee after most of her Glee teammates had slushied her today. Probably ran home to her doting daddies for lunch and never came back, since she hadn't seen her since last period. Who cares.

She would finish packing now, Quinn decided, and load it in her car later today so she could head straight over to Santana's tomorrow, right after Cheerios' afternoon practice.

Clothes, makeup, magazines... Oh right, tampons! She had been due for a few days now and as luck would have it, it would probably come during her sleepover. She shook her head and sighed. Why must it always come at the most inopportune of times anyway? It was like a rule of the universe or something.

She lifted the powder blue duffle bag to her shoulder and headed down the stairs to her car. Now all she had to do was play her cards right and avoid her father tonight, then she could enjoy a fantastic weekend with her friends.

The Unholy Trinity indeed, she smiled. Cheerios together, Glee together – we'll rule the school together from freshman year to senior! Honestly, it was for more than social influence that she hung out with them. They were her friends, her best friends, and they might be the only people in this world who actually gave a damn about her.

Even if her parents hated her, at least she wasn't alone, she thought with a smile.


	7. Approval

HIsland429 – Quinn really does deserve a slap, doesn't she? Too bad her dad slaps her for the entirely wrong reasons, going so far as to praise her other slap-worthy behaviours. "Brainwashed" is right indeed. I really like Sue as a character, she's mean and aggressive and gets on your nerves at times but she really does care for her students, even annoying little non-Cheerio Gleek Rachel Berry. This won't be the last we see of her.

MaJorReader619 – Hope you figure out the right words soon, because I would really like to hear what you think about my fic (:

KittenDoll – I'm glad you feel that way about Quinn, she really needs people in her corner. She has been raised to be the exact mirror of her parents, and just as she knows what they do to her is wrong, she'll eventually learn that what she is doing to others, especially Rachel, is wrong too. I'm glad you enjoyed the story so far. From the way you said you can understand their pain too well, I do hope you do not have any personal experience in this issues.

gogolax – Thank you. I don't think anyone is irredeemable, and Quinn will eventually redeem herself once she's out of the clutches of her parents. Not everyone can rise above their circumstances and be saints, I suppose. Also, this fic is AU. In cannon, Quinn doesn't enjoy torturing Rachel but her dad also doesn't enjoy torturing and using her either. Actually, I feel more sorry for Quinn than I do for Rachel, at least Rachel has the disillusion of her fathers loving her and maybe they do, in their own weird way. But Quinn has no one, she knows what her dad is doing is wrong, she knows her mom knows but is ignoring it all, she basically has no family on her side. She'll eventually have someone, however, and she'll stop trying to defend herself and start realizing her mistakes. Unfortunately, that might be some time in coming, because the next few chapters are rather Rachel-centric. I haven't really spent enough time on Quinn yet so she may seem quite flat and just purely evil. But be patient! Quinn's time is coming :)

Anon – Thank you.

unexpected sabotage – Great guesses! And I won't tell you if you don't want me to :P

sillystarshine – Yup, this school is seriously screwed up. It's just like how the entire school can throw slushies at her and not question why they're following Quinn's orders or consider how Rachel might possibly be feeling. Or even simply to lend her a set of clothes. But as events unfold and secrets are revealed, the school will start to change as well, not just the two girls. Good guess that I'm from the UK, most of my spelling _is_ British, isn't it? My country actually does follow the UK education system.

Bueller – Thank you! Yes, but I figured her dads were probably the only people she would defend so physically, since they're the only people she thinks love her. She's so used to the insults and even internalizes and accepts them as true, she probably wouldn't hit the boys for insulting just her.

beverlie4055 – Thank you!

Dreamsilver – I don't really want to announce it here, so PM me if you really want to know. Thanks for speculating, though!

JAMES-EAI – Thank you for being one of my most regular reviewers! Your reviews really mean a lot to me.

ajunebuga – Yup, there's more about that in this chapter, actually. I don't think she really was relying on her fathers for that information, just that she learnt to ignore it and not let it get in the way of school/rehearsals/work, because she learnt no one cared and expected her to just tolerate it. But now that people find out and start caring, she's going to learn that she's allowed to confess to hunger and pain and that people will help her.

adilamgp – Thank you! Yes, she's getting away physically. But emotionally and mentally, it's going to take a long time before she can truly "get away" from her fathers.

SA – Hi! Glad that you love the story. I'm sorry, I don't think this will be a romantic fic. Quinn and Rachel will just be friends, although like in canon, you can imagine whatever feelings you want into their relationship, I suppose. I'm a Christian, and while I hate homophobia more than I disapprove of homosexuality, I'm not too comfortable writing about a lesbian relationship between two girls. I'm sorry it was hard to read, and I hope your friend is alright now.

mementomori8 – I don't really wish to announce it here, so PM me if you really want to know. Thanks for speculating, though. :)

Rayven22 – Thank you! That is high praise indeed. High five on the iPad, most of this story is actually written on my iPad during my hours of travelling on the train, haha.

btvscharmedgirl – Thank you. Sue will definitely play a further role in this story. And Quinn will eventually get the help she needs, including people to confide in and help her through the difficult times ahead.

snowdrop1026 – Yup, the way I'm writing the story, I'm clearly partial to Rachel too. But there's a reason I put a character like Quinn in as well, even though I'm obviously having some problems writing about her. (I explained my reasons more in the Author's Note) She'll definitely run into some problems redeeming herself later but that's life right? We make mistakes, especially in our foolish youth, and as we grow up and recognize these mistakes, we feel guilty, and try our best to make up for them. As for Rachel, I hope this chapter puts your mind to rest. (:

beaner008 – OMG I can't tell you how excited I was to see you reviewed my story! I LOVE your story "Open Wounds"! I'm sorry I haven't reviewed it, I've never reviewed anything because I never know what to say in a review, which is little excuse, I know. Thank you so much for your kind words, it's high praise coming from you, haha.

t1 – I'm sorry you found it disturbing, but that's a perfectly normal reaction to such dark themes. I hoped my warnings were clear enough to keep sensitive people away. Thank you for your well-wishes, nonetheless.

RainBlueWater – You're too kind, but thank you! :D

**A/N. Thank you for your advice and input about how CPS works in the US! Hope you don't mind that I'll be taking a little creative license here and there but I'll try to make it still believable. **

**As for my country of origin, I'm actually from Singapore, yes the "caning country" mentioned in the 1****st**** episode of Sue's Corner (S01E04). And no, our sidewalks aren't that immaculate. More importantly, though, Sue Sylvester wasn't exaggerating (wow), because here in Singapore, caning is not just a form a corporal punishment for criminal infractions, it's also commonplace in most households and up until a few years ago, a common form of corporal punishment for major infractions in school. Rattan canes are sold in neighbourhood stores between the clothing brushes and the mops. Growing up, I've seen kids caned in school before, in primary school (that's 7 to 12 year olds). I, too, have been corporally punished by caning by my parents before, and so have most of my classmates. It's actually not that big a deal here. However, I cannot emphasise enough there is a BIG difference between caning for corporal punishment and caning as a form of abuse, and I certainly do not condone anything Hiram and Leroy do here with Rachel. Perhaps my different background only makes me more understanding of why Rachel would be so accepting of such corporal punishment as normal, something I'm guessing bewilders some of you? I'm sorry if this offends you. Please feel free to comment by leaving a review or PM-ing me. **

**Also, regarding the plot, I know Quinn is being a real bitch right now but I meant to write her that way. Not all abused children are cute, sweet, obedient and eager-to-please or scared, traumatized broken shells. Some of them grow up rebellious and others grow up mean, it's the defensive mechanism they've learnt to cope with terrible situations no child should be forced to have to deal with. These are the kids that often put people off, they are unlikeable and appear strong, and therefore fail to receive the help they need. Some even end up perpetuating the cycle of abuse. Give her a break, help her even if she pisses you off, (yes, I've stopped talking about Quinn) give her some unconditional love despite her misbehaviour and just maybe, she'll surprise you. (:**

**That said, I've not forgotten Quinn, she's in my plans. The chapters are a lot more Rachel-centric now because a lot more is happening in Rachel's life (this is just the 3****rd**** day since the first scene in Chapter 1!). For this reason and others, I've packed Quinn safely away to her sleepover. She'll continue to make re-appearances, though, and will have her own run of chapters when things in her life start to get more eventful. So that explains why this chapter, like the previous one, is so Rachel-centric. You might want to know that I wrote this after I wrote Chapter 1. After all that violence, I felt sick in the stomach and couldn't continue writing until I "rescued" Rachel first. I was very emotional at that time, hence its length. Hope you enjoy it. My chapters usually won't be so long.**

Chapter 7. Approval

"You look like you're still in pain, are you sure you don't want that back of yours seen?" Sharon the social worker asked for the millionth time, not expecting a different answer but trying anyway.

Rachel shook her head, shoulders tensing. Ms Sharon had been very nice to her but she still felt tendrils of fear from disobeying an adult. And not just this once, too. Ms Sharon had been the one who picked her up from school and although Rachel had steadfastly refused to allow her to look at her "injuries" and evaded all her questions about her fathers, she hadn't gotten mad at her. She had even allowed her to change into her spare set of clean and dry clothes before driving her here, to the CPS office.

That had been a few hours ago. And now she was back, asking the same questions again. But Rachel knew that no matter how nice Ms Sharon was, she couldn't show her any of the marks of her punishments.

Daddy had explained it to her. "The authorities" hated that two gay men had managed to find a surrogate and adopt a child. They would do anything, claim anything so that they could remove her from their care. They wouldn't understand that her fathers were strict with her because they loved her, they wouldn't even try to understand, because all they cared about was that she had two fathers. All they wanted to do was deny her gay fathers a daughter. Letting them have any bit of information would be giving them the ammunition for them to do so.

Rachel smiled her best show smile at Ms Sharon and sat down on the chair leaning against its back, careful not to allow any pain to show in her facial expression or body posture, even as the welts and bruises protested the pressure and made themselves painfully known to her. "I'm fine, Ms Sharon. See?" she looked at her, "I'm not in any pain, I'm fine, please. When can I see my fathers? When can I go home? You can't keep me here forever, you have to return me to them. I'm a minor, you can't do anything to me without the presence and permission of my fathers, they are my legal guardians."

"You are _not _fine, child," Sharon replied, although she was half starting to believe Rachel. She almost wondered if the teacher and nurse had just been dreaming up those welts they insisted they had seen. Rachel was so indignant to the point of being annoying, so cheerful with the brightest smile - she was just such a normal kid. And even though she was leaning back on where those welts reportedly were, she hardly looked like she was in any pain at all, she was just so convincing. No one could hide their pain that well, least of all such a young child, right? But Sharon's experience told her that her smile was just a little too bright, and behind the indignant demands and adamant refusals, she could also detect a fair bit of fear. Whatever had happened to this girl, she was not "fine".

And if the school staff were right about what they had seen, then those welts must now be hurting like the devil, pressed against the back of the hard wooden chair like that.

"You don't have to prove anything to me, please get up from that chair, the couch would be so much more comfortable, don't you think?"

Rachel looked at the sofa beside her chair. The soft leather did look very comfortable. But she hadn't sat on a sofa since she was 3, when Dad told her that slouching on the couch promoted poor posture, which would be detrimental to her dancing.

She knew couches were really soft. It was her duty to wipe them at home, and when she did, they would sink into the pressure of her hand against their cushions, not applying any pressure of their own against her skin. Unlike this seriously uncomfortable wood. And her whole body was hurting so badly, it would be nice to be able to sink it into something soft. Still, she couldn't disobey Dad like that, could she? Even if he wasn't here and she wasn't at home. She had to practise self-discipline at all times, and avoid temptation, however pleasurable, even when her fathers weren't around.

She shook her head at the social worker. "Thank you, Ms Sharon, but I'm fine here. Please tell me, when are my fathers coming?"

Sharon sighed, this was one stubborn girl. "I'm sorry, dear, your dads came just now but they've already left. They won't be allowed to see you while the court proceedings are under way."

"What court proceedings? I've done nothing wrong, please. I just hit Azimio and Karofsky twice, they hit me back so many more times, aren't they satisfied?" She pointed to her left eye which sported a swollen eyelid surrounded by a darkening bruise, and the bleeding cut in the corner of her left lip. "And they were the ones that started it, they were being ignorant fools and said some extremely rude and homophobic things about my fathers, and I just couldn't help myself. Please, I'm sorry for hitting them, but I already got a 1 day suspension from school for that, it's just a school infraction, I didn't think it would warrant any legal action…"

"No!" Sharon interrupted, shaking her head. "Don't worry, sweetheart, no one's suing you for hitting the 2 boys. Clearly, they reciprocated many more times than was necessary."

She took in the black eye and busted lip that graced the girl sitting in front of her. Not to mention the many more injuries she was sure were hidden beneath those clothes that the girl adamantly refused to remove so that the nurse could assess and treat her.

"No, I'm talking about the legal action that Child Protective Services is taking against your fathers."

"NO!" Rachel shouted, forgetting herself and jumping out of the chair. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at the social worker. "No way, you have no right! Homosexuality is not a crime. My fathers love me and provide for me, they haven't done anything wrong towards me, ever. Ask anyone in school, they'll tell you the same thing. They love me so much, they provide for my every need, they even give me singing, dancing and acting classes, they give me everything I want. You can't take them away from me! Please, you can't take me away from them."

"They saw those welts, child," Sharon spoke as gently as possible. "The nurse said they were so bad that she puked and I trust that it would take some terrible injuries to cause an experienced nurse like her to vomit out her lunch. You can claim you're 'fine' till you're blue in the face, but you can't deny what they saw. Come on, you're injured and you need medical attention."

Rachel was silent and still, no rant forthcoming, so Sharon continued.

"If you truly are fine, you would have allowed the nurse to examine you and properly take care of the injuries you must have sustained after that fight. Or that beating, more like. There are other injuries under those clothes, aren't there, besides those the boys inflicted? Your teacher Sue said she saw horizontal parallel welts, like those left by a belt. Your fathers did it, didn't they?"

Rachel just stood there, rooted to the spot and shaking her head vigorously. Her hands fell slackly to her side. She wanted to deny the accusations, to defend her fathers, but for the first time that day, she had no words to say.

Sharon took a step forward and placed a hand around her shoulders. As annoying and stubborn as she had been all afternoon, the child just looked so upset now, so burdened, as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She had intended to comfort her, but the moment her hand touched the small shoulders, the young girl flinched back violently, hissing softly under her breath. Rachel realized with horror that she had just negated the past few hours of denials by confessing to her pain and she sank to her knees, tears quietly running down her cheeks. She just didn't know what to do anymore.

The slushies, the fight, the nurse's office, refusing all these adults' requests, demands and nagging to let them see to her injuries. Then Ms Sharon coming in here to tell her CPS was suing her fathers' custody of her. This was simply the last straw that finally broke the camel's back.

Sharon pulled her hand back as though she had just touched fire. Closing her eyes, she cursed silently under her breath. She was CPS, she was supposed to be protecting children, but all she had done for this child was scold her all afternoon, and now, scare her and hurt her.

She ran her hand through her hair and sighed, what was it with this girl anyway? Truth be told, Rachel had acted so well all afternoon, hiding any pain she could possibly be feeling behind her extensive vocabulary and 100-watt smile that Sharon had almost convinced herself that she and the school staff were all crazy and that she had been working in this job too long, seeing abuse where there was none. Now, however, there was no hiding the truth. The broken, sobbing girl kneeling in front of her was the first time the girl had been genuine this whole afternoon.

Sharon knelt beside Rachel. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean to hurt you or scare you."

Rachel looked up at her frowning. "I'm not hurt," she blurted. "Or scared. Really, I'm not. Please. What they saw was nothing, only some punishment. I'm just really bad sometimes." Her voice dropped to a whisper and her face coloured, ashamed of her confession that she was "really bad".

"Dad often has to punish me, Daddy too, but they are just trying to help me be better. They punish me because they love me. I just make them so angry sometimes. It's only punishment, not abuse, not like anything you're thinking of or accusing them of. They love me, they really do, they've taken care of me all my life. Please, I have no one else but them, I don't even have any friends. They love me, they're the only ones who love me. Please, they're all I have and I need to go back home to them. I need to apologise to them, to do better, be better. I need to make them proud of me again. Please."

She visibly straightened herself and wiped her tears away but remained kneeling and continued in a more controlled voice, "Ms Sharon, you can't do this to them just because they're gay, I won't allow it. They are good men, and you have no right to take away their only daughter that they had to fight so hard for. I'm sure the American Civil Liberties Union will have a lot to say about this outright discrimination against homosexuals." Her attempt at recovering was admirable but her trembling voice and watery eyes betrayed the futility of her empty words.

Sharon's heart broke to hear Rachel's pleading voice insist that her fathers punished her because they loved her and confess shame-facedly that "she was just really bad sometimes" as though that were adequate justification and placed the blame solely on her tiny shoulders. It then shattered into more pieces as she saw the broken girl try to pull herself together, put on a brave face and defend her fathers. If the situation hadn't been so tragic, it would have been almost funny. Unfortunately, Sharon had seen more than her share of abused children to know that they often justified their abusers' actions, going so far as to feel guilt for having "forced" their abusers into their acts of violence. Rachel might be an incredibly resilient and exceptionally intelligent teenager with college-level vocabulary, but at heart, she was still a child.

"Child Protective Services is not prosecuting your fathers because of their sexual orientation," she told her firmly, "We're prosecuting them on the basis of the overtly severe marks we found on your body that we suspect to be from cruel and unusual punishments on their part. Until we determine that you're safe in that house, we can't in good conscience return you to them. You might not realize it, Rachel, and might not believe me right now, but children are not meant to be punished that badly. What they did to you in the name of discipline was wrong, it was abuse."

Despite her words, Sharon suspected she would never be returning Rachel to her fathers. From what she had observed today, especially in the last 15 minutes, such deep-seated conviction of the "rightness" of her parents' punishments stemmed from long-term and very severe abuse that would take a lifetime for Rachel to heal emotionally from.

"I'm safe there, please…" Rachel began, although she lacked her previous conviction. Her shoulders sagged dejectedly. "I have nowhere else to go, anyway, I have to return to them."

"We've contacted your other guardian." Sharon checked her watch. "I believe she just boarded her plane an hour ago, it should take her another hour or so to arrive here."

"Other guardian?"

"Ms Shelby Corcoran. Your mother, I believe. She's your fathers' surrogate. She left her number as your emergency contact even after your fathers adopted you, in case anything happened to them. She will be your temporary guardian until all the legal proceedings are completed."

Rachel nodded but did not say anything else, brows furrowed in deep thought. Sharon noticed the faraway look on her face and let her be, the girl had been fed a lot of information and surely had a lot of thoughts she needed to work through and figure out. She picked herself up from the floor and groaned, she was getting too old for this sort of thing. Holding out a hand to Rachel, she joked, "There's really no need to kneel on the floor when there's a comfortable sofa just right there, you know?", trying to lighten the mood of the room, which had grown all too somber.

Rachel stared curiously at the fair-skinned hand extended towards her. Hands extended towards her usually meant an impending slap across the face or a shove into the lockers. All the times she had been knocked to the ground by her fathers at home or the jocks at school, no one had held a hand out to help her up before. She placed her right hand into the proffered hand tentatively, and the older woman bent slightly to help pull her up.

"Thank you, ma'am," she said genuinely. "And sorry about that." She quirked a small smile.

"About what?"

"I heard your knees creaking. You must be getting old." She looked up hesitantly at the taller woman to judge her reaction. Had she gone over board? When she saw Sharon grin, she smiled in relief, a relaxed and more genuine smile this time.

Sharon laughed at Rachel's attempt at joking, seeing it for it was, an apology and an extension of friendship, or at least, friendliness. She raised her hand to smooth down Rachel's now messy hair, her smile widening when Rachel did not flinch back this time.

"Do you want anything to eat while you wait? We've got some biscuits, chips, raisins… some fruits if you're more health conscious."

"No, but thank you for offering, Ms Sharon," Rachel replied politely. She'd missed lunch due to the fight but the mention of her mother had formed a giant stone that was currently weighing her stomach down. She had too many thoughts vying for her attention in her head to be thinking of food as well.

"Well, if you change your mind, my office is just around the corner, okay?"

Rachel nodded in agreement, and sighed with relief when Sharon walked away. The lady was nice, nicer to her than anyone had ever been before, but it was comforting to finally be left alone again. When she was alone, she didn't have to worry about angering others. And somehow despite their combative start, they had formed some sort of easy friendship, and she did not want to spoil it.

Her mother. She had spent many hours thinking about the mother she had never met, and now, in an hour's time, she was going to meet her. Under these less than ideal circumstances, but still.

Her fathers had told her that her mother was Shelby Corcoran, a talented performer who wanted to make it to Broadway. Her family had not been supportive of her dream, so she had answered the Berrys' advertisement for a surrogate mother. She had needed the money to supplement her partial NYU scholarship to study and live in New York, and at the same time, audition for some roles. Dad had always called her a "cheap whore" who had used the fact that the Berrys were gay men who were having difficulty finding a surrogate to push up the prices she'd charged for their use of her uterus for 9 months.

However, Rachel thought she understood Shelby. It was awfully brave for her to have done that, not just going against her family's wishes to go to New York alone, but also signing up to be a surrogate for her fathers. Shelby wasn't just a singer, she was a performer, she wanted to go to Broadway, and carrying a child for 9 months might have derailed that dream – What if she had a complication in pregnancy? What if her fathers had rejected the baby and returned it to her? Even if all went well as it did, Shelby would have had to keep off the stage for 9 whole torturous months and after that still have had to lose a ton of pregnancy fats before she could perform again. Moreover, without her family's support, she needed to make sure that she had enough money to get by while she was auditioning. Show entertainment was a fickle industry, and even if you were the best, if you didn't have any prior experience, it might take a while for you to get a suitable role and even longer to work your way up towards Broadway. There was no such thing as being too prepared or having too much funds saved up.

Rachel had scoured the internet whenever she could, looking up her mother's name to see if she had performed in any shows. She had found her name a few times in the casting list of some off-Broadway shoes but the websites didn't have much to say about the shows or their casts. They never carried pictures of her either. She wondered if performing in New York, even if it was just off-Broadway, was absolutely amazing.

It was her biggest dream, that her mother would fulfill her dreams and make it big on Broadway, and one day, Rachel would go to New York, audition for a role in one of her mother's shows and get the part too. Then when she came up to Shelby to tell her she was her daughter, she would be so proud of her; she would hug her, praise her talent and tell her she loved her so much.

Her fathers were great, they loved her a lot but she had always wondered about her mother, what it would have been like, growing up with a mother.

Why had Shelby left her without looking back, without even a letter to remember her by? Was she just a job to her, a pay cheque to help fulfill her dreams, or was she something more? She had never talked about her feelings towards her mother to anybody, not even to her fathers, they wouldn't have approved. And she didn't know if her mother wanted their relationship to be known by others. What if she was worried for her future Broadway career and wanted to be seen as a sexy rising star, not a mother of a teenager? What if she was afraid that homophobes and religious organizations would boycott her performances and ruin her career if they found out she had been a surrogate for homosexuals? Rachel knew all about the unbelievable and inexplicable behavior of homophobes, she had grown up in conservative Lima, Ohio with 2 gay dads, after all. She attended a school where having 2 fathers was so horrible a crime that there was not a single homosexual student out of the closet yet.

That was why she had wanted to be successful first, before finding her mother, then maybe she would be proud of her achievements and be less likely to turn her away. If she was successful and became her mother's colleague, an equal, her mother might find it worthwhile to get to know her, right? It would have been such a dramatic and wonderful scene, one worthy of a Broadway musical. The media and fans, at least, would approve heartily of such a fairytale ending.

Still, that plan was now moot, since her mother was coming here in an hour or two. Rachel wondered why. Didn't she just land a new role in that new show "Spring Awakening" that the critics said "showed promise"? Was she shipping Rachel away to New York tonight? That idea alone brought too many other scary thoughts – not seeing her fathers again, changing school, changing her entire life – that she shook her head, not wanting to go there. Yes, it would be cool and exciting to live in New York, and start all over in a new school where no one hated her yet, but that would mean totally changing her entire life, and with a woman she did not know, a woman she had never even met before. She wasn't sure she was ready for that yet.

Besides, there were more pressing issues to deal with tonight. Like what her mother was going say when she found out that she had gotten into a fight today and was subsequently suspended from school tomorrow. She had never gotten into a fight before, nor ever been suspended from school and it just had to be her bad luck for both to happen on the day she was going to meet her mother for the first time in her life.

So much for impressing her, she thought morosely, her mother would probably take one look at her and her busted ugly face, decide she was not worth her time, and fly straight back to New York.

Rachel, after all, was her past. New York was her future. She had no obligation to Rachel beyond bearing her for nine months, she certainly hadn't signed up for raising and disciplining a troublesome, rebellious fourteen-year-old, right?

She wasn't sure how her fathers would have punished her since she hardly ever got into any trouble at school but since they were forbidden from seeing her while this stupid court case was going on, she supposed her mother would now be responsible for her punishment. Even if her fathers' punishments had been "too severe" according to Ms Sharon – she still didn't really believe her, in fact her fathers were often very lenient with her, allowing her to get away with light punishments for mistakes she would never have allowed herself to get away with –, most parents still did not look kindly upon such serious crimes as fighting in school and getting suspended. She found herself missing her fathers – their punishment would have been painful but she was used to it, it was a process she had grown familiar with. Plus they already knew how bad she often was, so there was nothing to hide. She wondered anxiously how her mother was going to punish her and how different it would be from her fathers.

All the implements of punishment her fathers used were in Dad's study at home but Shelby surely had some of her own. Rachel worried her now much-abused bottom lip. The CPS had accused her fathers of abuse based on a few welts they had seen on her back. Granted those were pretty bad, they always looked really ugly for the first few days, unlike bruises which looked increasingly colorful as they healed. The fresh welts on her back were still bleeding, and she was certain there were still old bruises that had darkened to a colorful purplish green, those always looked worse than they felt. Did that mean most parents did not punish their children this way then? She'd overheard students complain to each other about "spankings" before, and being "unable to sit for a week" after them, wasn't this the same thing? She certainly still managed to sit through all her classes everyday, painful as it was. She was still not entirely convinced that the prosecution was genuine and not due to her fathers' sexual orientation.

She sighed, she was so tired of people treating her and her family differently due to her fathers' homosexuality. What business of theirs was it anyway? Why were they so afraid of homosexuality, it was just their sexual orientation, not some disease they could "catch" so why were they so paranoid, fearful and angry of it? She got that they disapproved, for religious reasons or personal preferences or whatever, but they didn't have to go around publicly dissing them. She was a vegan, but it wasn't like she went around publicly humiliating and insulting all meat-eaters.

Still, at least she knew that Shelby was not homophobic, she couldn't have been if she had agreed to be her fathers' surrogate, right?

Lost in her thoughts, she startled when Sharon popped her head in to inform her that her mother was here, in the next room. "Would you like to meet her now or do you need a minute?"

"Now is fine, Ms Sharon," she acquiesced, shaking her head out of her many confusing thoughts. The past hour of thinking had raised more questions than answers but she had to focus, she was going to be meeting her mother now – her mother! She could do this. Her fathers had been teaching her to introduce herself properly since she was four so she could impress the guests who came to their house. And those guests were often very impressed with her politeness and deportment as well. She may not be a Broadway star yet but her mother had still come here for her, all the way from New York, and she needed to be on her best behaviour so she would want to stay on longer.

…

Shelby straightened her blouse and adjusted her skirt obsessively. She paced in the small office, unable to calm herself down – she was going to meet her daughter for the first time in 15 years!

She still remembered that adorable little face looking back at her 15 years ago. She had never even gotten to hold her before she was whisked away to her fathers, her real parents. She frowned, thinking of Rachel's fathers. They had seemed like such a wonderful couple on paper, educated and respectable. She'd met them, of course, several times, and they had looked so in love, had convinced her that they were indeed a loving couple who really wanted a child to complete their family, especially since both their families had disowned them for their sexual orientation. The money had been good too, they had been so desperate for a surrogate to carry their child that they had readily agreed to all her demands. If she was honest, that was part of the reason she had chosen them. She wondered if she had been too self-centered and should have looked harder for signs of whether they would really love that child.

More importantly, she wondered if Rachel would ever forgive her for giving her away to such poor excuses of parents.

_Abuse_, they had told her. The social worker, Sharon her name was, had given her a summary of what had happened. Rachel had gotten into a fight with 2 bigger boys and had been brought unconscious to the nurse's office. The nurse had noticed welts and other injuries indicative of abuse and had informed CPS. When Rachel woke up, however, she had refused treatment for any of her injuries, refused to even allow the nurse to examine her, only insisting repeatedly that CPS should not have been informed and she wished to return home to her fathers.

Shelby would have found Rachel's denial of the abuse odd, if not for her recent research into child abuse and incest for her role in "Spring Awakening". She knew that children, feeling vulnerable, often justified their abusers' actions to make it easier to accept, especially when the abusers were their parents who were supposed to love them. Thinking about the dark themes of the show she had just abandoned, she hoped it was "just" abuse and there was no incest. The Berrys were gay, not bi, and definitely not pedophilic, right?

Unfortunately, without Rachel's cooperation, CPS's suspicions, however strong, could not hold up in a court of law. The best they could do was temporarily remove her from her fathers on suspicion of "inadequate care" and investigate. Sharon had hoped that Shelby, as Rachel's mother, would have better success with getting Rachel's cooperation, not just for the sake of making her job much easier, but also so that the injured girl could finally get the medical help she needed. Shelby doubted that she could do what was being asked of her, Rachel didn't even know her, probably hated her right now, but she had to try. It broke her heart to hear that her daughter had waited all day in this office, physically injured, and still had not yet been treated.

She subconsciously straightened her clothes and touched her hair again, just as Sharon walked in with a shorter and younger girl following closely behind her. Shelby's breath caught in her chest. The young girl – Rachel! – walked in with a straight, if a little stiff, posture, and she wore a bright smile on her face, a little falsely bright to be honest. Her straight dark brown hair reached past her shoulders and Shelby smiled as she realized her daughter had inherited her high cheekbones. But it was her eyes that drew her in. They were beautiful, despite one of them being surrounded by a large purpling bruise. They were so emotional, telling her more than what the show-smile did, the chocolate orbs reflecting some fear and apprehension but mostly, determination and want.

Rachel straightened her posture as she walked in behind Sharon, smiling as widely as she could, the only way she knew how to make a good impression. When she saw her mother, however, her eyes went wide. Her mother was _beautiful_. She had thought Quinn was the prettiest girl she had ever seen, but if Quinn looked like an angel, her mother resembled a goddess. She was beyond beautiful, she was _gorgeous_. She was tall, slim and elegant, her figure like that of a model. Wavy brown hair framed her sharp facial features, with high cheekbones and the most mesmerizing green eyes.

Rachel caught herself staring into those stunning green eyes and turned away, embarrassed. She suddenly felt very self-conscious about her looks, recalling the words the students at school used to describe her – ManHands, Tranny, RuPaul, Stubbles, Treasure Trail, Dwarf, Midget, Hobbit, Boy Hips... – Beside this lady (her mother!), she felt so small and insignificant, like all of these insults and so much worse. How could this breathtaking lady be her mother? She looked nothing like her.

Recovering quickly, she looked back at her mother, and sticking out her hand, spoke in her clearest diction, "Ms. Corcoran? I'm Rachel Berry. I'm your daughter.*"

Shelby smiled at Rachel's bluntness and clasped her outstretched hand, which was immediately firmly shaken up and down. _God, she was so eager._ "Hello, Rachel."

An uncomfortable silence set in as they stared at each other and Rachel fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure of what else to say. Fortunately, Sharon rescued them from their discomfort. "Please take a seat," she indicated the chair next to Shelby's. Both of them sat down and looked expectantly at Sharon.

"These are forms for temporary guardianship. They are valid for 3 months but since you are her birth mother, this should be a fellow straightforward case and the legal proceedings should be completed by then. The contract you signed with her fathers will also be nullified. Should the trial take longer than 3 months, the guardianship can be renewed for another 3 months. And oh, before I forget, these are forms for you to register as a foster parent so that you can apply for the temporary guardianship I was discussing with you about. We usually do this only with registered foster parents but yours is a unique situation, we called you in because you are Rachel's closest relative next to her fathers."

Shelby nodded understandingly and flipped through the stack of papers. She hated paperwork, but she would sign anything to bring Rachel home with her tonight.

"Now, on to more practical matters. Shelby, do you have any place to stay at tonight?"

"No, I was planning to stay at a motel tonight. I'll look for a place tomorrow. I guarantee I'll have one within the week." Shelby replied, trying to appear confident. She knew a motel was not the best place to bring your daughter "home" to on your first night with her but she had hopped onto the first plane here from New York this afternoon. She only had one luggage with her, and it had been a whirlwind of activity and information thrown at her since she landed, she hadn't had the time to arrange for any accommodations.

"That's alright. Please let us know if you require any assistance in getting a place."

"I think I might take you up on that offer."

"Very well, why don't you sign these forms and then you can both go and spend some time together, get to know one another. I'll drop by the motel tomorrow to see how you're doing and hopefully, also with some information on places you can rent."

Shelby bent her head, signing the stack of forms diligently and Rachel finally found her voice, "Thank you so much, Ms Sharon." Chocolate eyes met blue and silently conveyed more apologies for her behaviour that afternoon. She felt badly for her behavior, she knew she had been a handful and a few times, was more than surprised that Sharon hadn't just slapped her right there and then.

Sharon smiled. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Rachel. You too, Shelby." She picked up the signed forms and left the room, leaving mother and daughter alone together.

Rachel stood up and walked towards the luggage in the corner that she assumed was Shelby's. "Is this your luggage, ma'am?"

"Yes it is, but you don't have to help me carry it."

"Please, ma'am, I would like to help you carry it, if you'll allow me to? I'll be really careful with it, I promise."

Shelby looked at Rachel. She looked so painfully eager, it was impossible to deny her. "Alright then. But no more 'ma'am's please, it makes me sound too old. 'Shelby' is fine."

Rachel winced. She thought she was being respectful and polite addressing her 'ma'am' but her mother thought she was insulting her age. Not that any term of address could make her gorgeous mother look old. "You're not old, you're really beautiful," she wanted to say but she held her tongue. It was the kind of impulsive thing she said that always got her into trouble. Besides, she was already in trouble… wasn't she? Shelby had called her 'dear' earlier and she did not look angry, she was still looking expectantly at Rachel standing beside the luggage. It was confusing and left her unsure of what to do or say but at the very least, she could handle the luggage.

Rachel picked up the bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. It was heavier than it looked and bit into some of the welts on her shoulder but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. She moved towards the door and looked back in confusion when her mother hadn't moved.

"Are you okay? Sharon mentioned that you might be injured." Shelby wondered if her shoulder was hurt as well. Sharon had filled her in a little about Rachel's injuries but she hadn't known much either. The bruise around her left eye and the cut on her lip were from the fight, she knew. But Sharon had also mentioned welts on her lower back that Rachel had refused treatment for, and Shelby wasn't sure how far up those extended to. She had also been warned that Rachel would steadfastly deny the presence of any injuries, but she hoped Shelby, as her mother, could convince Rachel to show her her injuries and get some medical attention for them. "Is your shoulder injured?"

Rachel bit her lip nervously. It was one thing to lie to the social worker, it was another to lie to her mother, her mother who was her legal guardian now, who was already supposed to punish her tonight, and who might already be angry with her for more than just the fight. She couldn't lie to her, could she?

Shelby could practically see the wheels turning in Rachel's head, her daughter certainly wore her heart on her sleeve, quite unlike herself.

"I didn't injure my shoulder, but I was punished there recently. But it's nothing, really, it's healing well. I'm okay, see?" Rachel displayed her shoulder with the baggage's strap slung over it.

"May I see it?" Shelby asked and Rachel tensed, stepping back towards the door. "Please, ma'am, I'm okay, really. Let's just go to the motel now, please."

Shelby stared at her daughter, wondering what was going through her head. She knew Rachel had refused the nurses and the social worker, but she had hoped she would have better success where they had failed. It broke her heart to know that her daughter was injured and had yet to receive medical treatment. For the life of her, she could not figure out why Rachel wouldn't accept the treatment she needed – who wanted to remain in pain? Did her fathers deny her medical treatment too? She frowned angrily.

"NO, it's _not_ okay. Why won't you get help for your shoulder if you need it? And what did I just say about calling me 'ma'am', you don't have to be so formal all the time, you know?"

Rachel flinched at the anger in her mother's voice, she was angry already and they hadn't even stepped out of the CPS office yet. It would be embarassing and kind of ironic to get hit here, right? She stared down at her shoes, unsure of what to do. She had only met her mom for 15 minutes and she had already made her angry. She really never could get anything right, could she? Even if her mother did not punish her for the fight, she would definitely be punishing her for all these other misdeeds tonight. How many more mistakes before she decided that Rachel wasn't worth her time and life? How could she have forgotten her simple instructions about how to address her, she had just told her not 5 minutes ago not to call her 'ma'am', Rachel berated herself.

Shelby sighed, she could see the fear in Rachel's posture as she visibly cowered away from her. Way to go, Shelbs, she mocked herself, scaring your already abused daughter. She closed her eyes, unsure of what to do. Motel first, she decided, then food. Maybe, after eating, Rachel would feel more comfortable about letting her see to her injuries. If she was afraid of health care workers and the wounds weren't too bad, Shelby could help do her dressings, she did have some experience with first aid.

Making up her mind, she guided Rachel out of the office to find them a cab. Rachel allowed herself to be pushed along, meekly carrying her bag, the pain of the strap digging into her shoulder and her mother's hand pressing against her lacerated back a constant reminder of what was awaiting her when they got to the motel. Neither of them said another word to each other until they arrived at their motel room 30 minutes later.

…

"Are you hungry?" Shelby asked, as she surveyed the Room Service menu. She was unsure of what to say to her daughter but food sounded like a good start. Their silence had gone on for too long and someone needed to be the first to break the ice.

"Yes ma-Ms Shelby," Rachel confessed, remembering her missed lunch. She sure was starving considering she had only missed one meal, it must have been all the exertion of the day. She tightened her abdominal muscles to hold back the growling of her stomach, it wouldn't do to be rude.

"What would you like to eat?" Shelby asked, ignoring Rachel's near mistake. Now was not the time to scare her again. She handed over the menu. "I think I'll have the grilled chicken chop."

Rachel received the menu with trembling hands and stared down at it, not really registering any of the words. Her mother hadn't said she could eat, only asked what she would like to eat. Her mind was working overtime wondering how Shelby was going to punish her. Was this her punishment? Looking at a list of foods she was forbidden to eat when she'd already confessed she was hungry?

She glanced up at Shelby who was still looking at her expectantly, as if she was still waiting for her to place her order. She worried her bottom lip nervously. She was certain her mother was furious at her, she hadn't said a word to her since she got angry at her at the CPS office. Why was she ordering food for her then? She'd messed up just now at the CPS office, and again with almost calling her 'ma'am' just now; she didn't deserve to eat, she knew that.

Was Ms Shelby just testing her to see if she knew that? Was she making her say she want to eat then refusing her? Or was she actually going to place her order, then eat both servings in front of her or worse throw Rachel's order into the dustbin? Or maybe she intended to make Rachel jump through a series of hoops to earn her dinner – Would she get to eat tonight then? She wondered hopefully. But what about the fighting that afternoon, wasn't she going to get punished for that too?

Even if she were allowed to eat, she wondered if she should – she sometimes couldn't hold her food in when she got punished on a full stomach, and they were in a single room, she doubted Ms Shelby would be pleased with the stench of vomit pervading the room all night.

Rachel regretted not accepting Ms Sharon's offer of food earlier, she had been so nice to her and Rachel was certain she wouldn't have minded giving her some food. Then she could have said truthfully that she wasn't hungry and she wouldn't be in this dilemma now. The food would also have had time to settle and wouldn't come up as easily during her punishment later.

She gripped the laminated menu tightly, unsure of what to do. She shouldn't have confessed to her hunger just now, she should have just lied and said she wasn't hungry. It's just, honesty had been ingrained into her from young – you confessed every wrong thought and action and accepted the punishment, even if that wrong thought was something as simple as being hungry. Everything would be worse if you got caught out in a lie.

"I don't need to eat anything, Miss Shelby," Rachel said, her voice barely over a whisper. It was true, she didn't _need_ to, she'd had quite a substantial breakfast that morning. Was it the right answer, though? She would soon find out.

Shelby wanted to tear her hair out in frustration. Rachel had said she was hungry, then tortured herself for 5 minutes over what to select for a simple food order only to decide she didn't need to eat anything. What was wrong _this_ time? And the way her daughter called her 'Miss Shelby' with such reverence and respect, she might as well be still be calling her 'ma'am'. Or 'Your Highness', she thought bitterly. She couldn't figure out what had she done to scare her daughter like this. She fought to keep her calm but Shelby Corcoran was not a patient woman.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. What were their priorities again? Motel, food, injuries. Right. They were already at the motel, and food was apparently a more complicated issue than she thought it would be. That left dealing with her injuries. Alright then.

"Since you don't wish to eat anything, Rachel, why don't we deal with your injuries first? Take off your clothes please, dear." She held her breath, hoping the direct approach would work and she would be able to rein in her temper and not blow up on her daughter. She had dreamt so long of how wonderful it would be to meet her, dreamt that she would be a successful, famous Broadway star then, and she would send her daughter tickets to watch her perform, then reveal her true identity to her backstage… How proud her daughter would be of her, the long hours they would spend talking and catching up on each other's lives, that maybe her daughter might even enjoy singing, and she could coach her daughter with singing lessons which they could bond over… In all those dreams, she never would have thought that she would end up in a motel room with her beaten, abused daughter cowering away from her in fear and herself trying to restrain her frustration and anger, and not vent it all out on her.

Rachel watched warily as Shelby breathed deeply and tried to calm herself down. She was clearly angry. Rachel wished she would just announce her punishment, deliver it and be done with that. Or if she was so angry, just beat her now until all her anger was spent. She would really prefer the first option, a controlled whipping was always preferable to a violent beating but she knew she would deserve the punishment, whatever it was. At this point, she even wanted it, anything to break the tension in the motel room. Hopefully, her punishment would be over by the end of tonight, and then Shelby would forgive her and they could start over on a clean slate and really try to get to know each other.

She almost sighed with relief when Shelby told her to remove her clothes. Shelby might have said 'please' and called her 'dear', but she knew an order when she heard one. There was no other reason for Shelby to ask her to strip, after all, besides to get her clothes out of the way so she could punish her properly without dirtying or staining any of the fabric. No point ruining perfectly good clothes. Rachel quickly undressed herself, folding them neatly just as she always did. She placed the small pile of clothes on the floor beside her feet and looked up expectantly, hoping to be given some further instruction as to where and how she should position herself.

Well that was easy enough, Shelby thought, surprised, as Rachel obeyed her immediately and pulled her sweater over head. Her smile turned into shock, however, as the younger girl did not stop at that point and went on to remove every stitch of clothing, even her undergarments and socks, to reveal the extensive injuries beneath.

Her torso was littered with bruises, and the tail ends of a few welts could be seen at the sides, hinting at the marks that must have stretched forward from her back. However, that was nothing compared to her abdomen, which appeared to be one gigantic multi-coloured bruise of various colours, looking like a work of abstract art. And her body, she had looked petite before, which was odd considering how tall Shelby and her fathers were, but now, out of her sweater, she looked more like an under-aged Chinese child gymnast than an American teenager. Her ribs stuck out prominently, each bone protruding drastically. Her stomach was flat, almost concave, with the hint of abs, although it was hard to tell amongst the bruises. The rest of her body was pretty much similar, toned muscles with barely an ounce of fat covering them, although the bruising, thankfully, did not extend to her arms and legs.

At least she didn't look that badly injured, Shelby reassured herself. Bruises were a common occurrence for herself and anyone in the performing arts industry, they weren't life-threatening. She closed her eyes at the thought of how Rachel had gotten these bruises, not from a misstep in a dance move but from being beaten by her fathers as "punishment". It made her feel sick in the stomach but she knew she couldn't let herself go like that, she needed to remain in control, to be there for Rachel. She looked over the injuries with a more clinical eye - at least most of the bruises appeared to be superficial and probably would not require expert medical care by health professionals, just some cleaning and ointment to ease the swelling and dull the pain.

"Why don't you lie down on the bed, dear," Shelby said, and headed to the bathroom to get some wet towels and first aid supplies. "Yes, Ms Shelby," Rachel replied to her retreating back and stepped up to the bed.

Arranging the pillows into a pile in the centre of the bed, she lay on top of them, making sure that her hip was over the highest part of the pillows so that it was presented more prominently as a target. Her fathers usually allowed her the support of her bed only when she was too exhausted to hold herself upright, and those times she would be more sprawled on her bed than presented properly, so she was rarely in this position. However, the few times that she wasn't, like during those weeks when she broke her leg when she was 9, her punishments would be carried out in this position, bottom propped up on a stack of pillows. Dad liked for her to present herself properly for punishment, he felt it taught her submission and obedience, and expressed her acceptance of the punishment to come.

She guessed she liked this position too, it was kind of comfortable. Her front wasn't too badly injured, just a few bruises and lying on it did not increase the pain by much. There were no bleeding cuts there either, so she thankfully wouldn't stain the bedsheets. The same couldn't be said of her back, she'd had to throw away the slushy-soaked bandages that she had applied this morning and had not been able to get her hands on any more. She hoped she wouldn't bleed too much tonight, blood stains were really difficult to scrub out the next day.

She lowered her face to the bedsheet, leaning on her right cheek so that her throbbing left eye was not pressed against the hard mattress. Another benefit of this position, she thought, holding position shouldn't be too difficult. She grabbed a handful of mattress cover in each hand she placed on either side of her head and waited for her mother to return. This was going to be painful, she knew, but then it would be over and she could have a clean sheet with her mother again. She couldn't help but smile, she loved the way the words "her mother" sounded in her head. She wondered when, if ever, she would be able to address Shelby as her mother for real. She would do anything and everything she could to make her proud and earn that right, she thought, her heart aching in her chest. But for now she would accept her well-deserved punishment in a submissive, respectful and dignified manner and not disgrace herself further with any shrieking or sobbing, she promised herself, as the clicking of Shelby's heels indicated her return from the bathroom. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited, not wanting to see the disappointment and anger in her mother's eyes until her punishment was over and she had paid for her mistakes.

Shelby stopped short in the middle of the hallway. She could not speak, could not move, could not even breathe; she could only stare at her daughter, arranged in a ridiculous manner on the bed but that was the least of her concerns as she took in the sight of her child's lacerated back. Every inch of skin, from her shoulders down to her calves was covered and overlapped in thick red welts and thinner but more swollen purplish tramline wheals. Where too many welts were concentrated over too little skin, the skin was cut in numerous places and painful looking blood blisters had also formed. Her back was the worst, it looked like a war zone, and like her front abdomen, underneath the welts, it was also one continuous area of bruising. There were also rounded areas of deeper bruising and cuts, as though she had been kicked or hit repeatedly with something hard. Shelby wondered if those were from her fathers or the boys in her fight. Whoever it was from, she was going to kill the people who had done this to her little girl.

She dropped the towels and basin to the floor and moved towards the bed, kneeling on the mattress to take a closer look at the damage. It was clear this had gone on for very long, in some areas where the welts weren't so bad, long faint scars could be seen underneath the bruising. From the looks of it, her back and bottom was the main area she was punished on and she felt foolish at her earlier relief that the bruises on the child's front hadn't been too bad. She should have remembered from her earlier conversation with Sharon that the nurse had seen welts on Rachel's back, which was why CPS had been called in in the first place. It pained her that she could now see how they were so certain this was abuse, despite Rachel's adamant denials and refusal to allow them to examine her.

She looked up to where Rachel's head was bent, tilted to the left so her black eye was displayed prominently. Both eyes were shut and squeezed tightly. She looked down again, and a vertical red line over the right shoulder caught her eye, it looked somewhat fresh and ran in a different direction from all the other welts but did not look it was from a belt or any implement, it was sunken in rather than protruding swollenly outwards. About an inch wide, it extended down to her armpit, leaving in its wake several broken blisters, a few of which were still weeping fluid.

"_I didn't injure my shoulder, but I was punished there recently. But it's nothing, really, it's healing well. I'm okay, see?" Rachel displayed her shoulder with the baggage's strap slung over it._

Shelby felt bile rise in her throat as she remembered Rachel's words. She recalled her own childhood punishments, whining and fidgeting when she had to sit on a chair after a bottom spanking. Why on earth had Rachel volunteered to carry her heavy luggage on her severely welted shoulder, causing so much damage to the already wounded skin in the process? She had even smiled at Shelby, looking so eager that Shelby had been unable to turn her down. Shelby felt disgusted at herself for even allowing Rachel to carry the bag without checking for injuries first. Even if she hadn't known, she still felt like she had been the one who had hurt her, who had left such a painful mark on those thin shoulders.

Suddenly, something clicked in her brain at the posture Rachel was currently still in, oblivious to her mother's distress. Her daughter was presenting her bottom to her, requesting for and expecting punishment to be meted out on it.

Who would have the heart to? Shelby wondered. She herself was resisting the urge to caress the broken skin, to assure herself that this was real and not a horrible nightmare. It looked like even the lightest touch, even a fly landing on the injured skin would be torture to the poor girl. Who could hurt such an injured child even more?

Rachel was confused. Her mother had emerged from the toilet but had not started her punishment yet. She felt the bed dip beside her and guessed it was probably her. She frowned but did not open her eyes. What was going on? Why wasn't she beating her already? Dad usually stood at the edge of the bed, it gave him a better swing, so why was she kneeling beside her? Why did she have to be so infuriatingly indiscernible, why couldn't she just follow the script and start punishing her already?

She could feel the warmth of her mother's body right beside her, a stark contrast to her own shivering, naked one; could feel her mother's eyes staring at every inch of her skin, making her want to squirm in discomfort but she forced her body to remain still. She remembered that this was the first time she was showing her back to her mother, the first time she was showing her back to anyone but her fathers, actually, and wondered what she was thinking. Did it look as bad it felt? Was her mother thinking about how naughty she had to be, to be punished so frequently? Was her mother going to return her back to Ms Sharon now?

She did not know what she was expected to do in such a situation but lie there and not move. It would be so much easier if Ms Shelby would just start hitting her right now. The pain, she could handle, but this confusion was killing her. She didn't know what was expected of her, and that always led to further mistakes and worse punishments.

"Rachel," Shelby finally whispered, "Please don't lie there this way." She didn't know what else to say, except she couldn't allow her daughter to think that she was going to beat her for one more second. Even the thought of it made her nauseous.

Rachel startled. She opened her eyes and lifted her upper body with her arms, twisting around so she was facing Shelby. Shelby saw fluid ooze out of a few more blisters at the movement, and winced on her daughter's behalf but Rachel's face barely seemed to register any pain. Instead, her facial expression was one of fear, her voice slightly panicky, "Is this not the position you want me in? I'm so sorry, I just assumed… You told me to lie down but I thought you wanted to punish my back. Would you like to punish my front instead? There are less marks there so you might prefer that…"

"NO!" Shelby shouted and regretted it immediately when Rachel flinched backwards in fear. She continued more softly, "I meant, no I do not wish for you to be in any position, because I am not going to punish you. When I told you to lie down on the bed, I meant for you to get comfortable so I could help you wash and treat your injuries. The injuries I saw on your front. I didn't know your back was so..." Her voice trailed off, no words coming to her mind to describe what her back looked like.

Rachel froze, not knowing what to do, not really understanding what Shelby had just said. Fortunately for her, Shelby knew what she needed to do. To hell with words, her words today had been consistently misunderstood by Rachel, who evidently had a very different worldview from her. To make her understand, she would have to show her.

She lifted Rachel's hips slightly and removed the pillows, supporting her body gently back down onto the bed. Dropping most of the pillows on the floor beside the bed, she kept the largest and softest one. With gentle fingers, she pried Rachel's hands from the tight grip they had on the mattress cover and replaced the scrunched up balls of material with that large pillow, which doubled up as both something she could hug as well as rest her head on. The child offered no resistance, allowing Shelby to manipulate her body as she pleased. Her brows, however, were knitted together, and she openly stared at Shelby, following her every move, not masking her surprise and confusion.

Retrieving the wet towels and basin of soap water from the floor where she had dropped them earlier, Shelby brought them over to the floor beside the bed. "Please lie back down, I'm going to clean your back for you. I'm sorry but it's going to hurt, okay, darling?" Rachel obeyed her and settled back down on her pillow. No verbal response was forthcoming but she hadn't expected any, Rachel still looked like she was in shock.

"I'll try my best to be gentle but please tell me if I'm hurting you." She needed to say it for her own sake, even though she was certain the child who would cheerfully volunteer to carry a heavy bag over her injured shoulder would not complain about a gentle washcloth cleaning those same wounds.

Rachel lay back down on the bed as she felt Shelby's hand on her back, wiping her down with a wet cloth. Her shoulders tensed at the contact but the stinging from the soapy water was less than she expected, the cloth on her back surprisingly comfortable and not painful. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes at the soft gentleness of her mother's hands, hands that she still expected to clench into fists and start hitting her. She felt so loved and cared for right now, but she didn't understand what was going on – wasn't Shelby angry at her? She should be, she had every right to be. But the hands on her back remained gentle, gentler than even her own hands were when she bathed herself and cleaned those wounds.

She blinked furiously, trying to keep control of her emotions, but the tears fell hard and fast, soaking the pillow underneath her. So much for accepting her punishment in a dignified manner, she felt so small right now. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt shame at being naked in front of her fathers, the pain of the punishments and her shame and guilt over the mistakes that had earned her those punishments in the first place outweighing the simple shame of being naked. But now, her mother's gentle hands washing her bare back with a wet cloth, water dripping down her sides and soaking the mattress they were on, she felt her nudity more keenly than ever. She desperately wished that she could turn back time and have behaved better the past 2 weeks, so that right now, in this moment, her mother wouldn't be seeing this, this shameful and embarrassing side of her. In her current state of nudity, she could hide nothing of herself from her mother, and the thought that this was probably going to be the first and most lasting impression Shelby had of her was almost too much to bear.

"It's not all from being punished," she heard her own voice croak out. She didn't know why, but she needed to justify herself, to convince her mother she was not that bad a girl. "It's not all because I was bad, some of them are from the fight just now." She clammed up at her mention of the fight, cursing her runaway mouth when she felt Shelby's ministrations stop suddenly. It had been such a lovely moment, why did she have to go and ruin it by bringing up her infractions from school? She allowed her head to fall back to the pillow, crying silently into it, cringing at the scolding that she was sure would come now. She swallowed her saliva at the sudden lump in her throat and tried not to think about what would most certainly come after the scolding.

Shelby felt the muscles in Rachel's upper back tense under her stilled hand holding the now blood-stained cloth. A long minute passed, and no one said anything. The silence was almost palpable. Shelby had no words with which to reply that comment. How could she, when she did not know anything about Rachel's life, did not know why she had fought in school or why she had been punished by her fathers, multiple times if these marks were anything to go by. She did not know anything except that Rachel was her little girl and even if she weren't, no child deserved to be injured like that.

Except maybe those fathers of hers, she thought angrily, the familiar anger returning easily. Anger was so much easier an emotion to deal with than the unfamiliar stabbing pain in her heart.

She forced her hand to start moving again, rinsing the cloth in the basin, and started on her bottom. She winced painfully on Rachel's behalf – her bottom cheeks and upper thighs, both far too small with too little padding, in Shelby's opinion, were a ridged mess of cuts and purplish weals, mainly done by a cane, judging by the parallel double tramline pattern. There were so many that most overlapped each other, and where the swollen stripes crossed each other, little blisters could be seen. This was clearly from a punishment and not the morning's fight.

As Shelby cleaned that up too, she idly wondered what 'bad' things Rachel could have done for her fathers to have punished her like this, for her to think she _deserved_ to be punished like this. Sharon had showed her Rachel's school papers at the CPS office. Her school record was clean, barring this afternoon's fight that her fathers could not have had the chance to punish her for. She'd never even been late for school before. Her grades were exceptional, never dropping below an 'A'. In fact, last term she'd achieved top three in her cohort in all her subjects, and had ranked 2nd overall. Her conduct seemed to be excellent too, most of her teachers' comments reflected a diligent student committed to learning who participated enthusiastically in class and took pride in submitting work of the highest standards. A few had mentioned that she lacked team spirit or social skills and one had mentioned he thought Rachel was too proud and needed to learn to get along with her peers. There was nothing in there that gave any indication of a troublemaker or a juvenile delinquent. If anything, she had to be one of the star pupils of McKinley High.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Rachel suddenly moved away from her, off the bed, heading straight for the toilet. What had just happened? Since Rachel had not even closed the door, she followed her in, to see her crouched over the toilet bowl, dry heaving into it. There was, however, no vomitus forthcoming.

"Rachel, dear? Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," Rachel whispered between heaves, as her stomach continued to feel like it wanted to launch itself out of her abdomen, out of her mouth and into the toilet bowel. She retched into the toilet bowl again, even though she knew for a fact that it was empty save for the churning digestive juices, her breakfast long gone.

Shelby frowned, trying to recall the Basic First Aid course she had taken many years ago.

"Do you have a headache?"

Rachel blinked at the seemingly random question. "Yes, I do," she replied honestly. In truth, her head was killing her, had starting hurting again an hour ago but she hadn't wanted to trouble her mother for an aspirin, not when she thought she was still mad at her. She couldn't understand how her mother could have guessed it, though.

"Okay, that's it. You go put on your clothes and I'll grab a few paper bags in case some vomit does come out. We're going to the hospital _now_."

Rachel's protests died at the tip of her tongue when she caught the steely glint in Ms Shelby's eye, and she meekly hurried to obey her.

…

"So my colleague whose wife works at the CPS told me something interesting just now."

Quinn looked up, wondering what anyone at CPS had to say that would be of interest to her father. If anything, she thought bitterly, if she was any braver, her father would have been the one reported to CPS a year ago. She wondered what that colleague of his would have thought about that.

"What was it, father?"

"He told me a report has been filed against the Berry men for 'inadequate care'. Apparently, a teacher at your school filed the report. His wife said when they picked her up, she was pretty messed up."

Quinn gulped. So it was true about Karofsky and Adams, then. She hadn't really believed that Rachel could have been so stupid. She wondered what would have possessed Rachel to attempt to take on the two bigger boys - put together they were about 5 times her puny, tiny size! Especially since Rachel was normally so nonchalant about the bullying, more often than not walking away from Quinn with a smile and a nod, completely unfazed by her insults, as though she was above Quinn's attempts at dragging her down.

Maybe it really was the overwhelming number of slushies that had imbalanced her, causing her to lose control, Quinn thought guiltily. But she couldn't express any of these, not here at this dinner table in front of her father, so she offered the one reply that would please him.

"Yes, sir. You told me to put her in her place last night, so I got the students at school to throw slushies at her. Some of the footballers took the violence a little far."

Russell raised an eyebrow at Quinn and she hurried to clarify. "But I didn't do anything personally, so nothing can be traced back to me."

Russell smiled a rare smile of approval at Quinn. "Good. I should have thought of this earlier, clearly two gay men are completely incapable of providing adequate care to a child. Not that I give a damn what kind of care she receives, I just want all three of them freaks out of our nice Christian community forever. I'll call tomorrow, pull some strings, see if I can make sure those gay abominations never get their daughter back again."

Quinn nodded to her father but did not reply him as she wordlessly lowered her eyes back down to her food in shame, unable to stomach seeing the approval in his eyes.

True, she was jealous of Rachel's loving fathers, not that she would admit that to anyone, least of all to her own father, but she hadn't meant to orchestrate this chain of events that would take them away from her. She would _never_ try to do something like that, not even to her long-time nemesis. And now her father was looking at her with such approval, validating her actions, the very same ones which she now wished she hadn't done. Shame flooded her cheeks at the sliver of happiness that she felt at that look, the look that she had always fought so hard for but never received. After all her hard work in her studies, in cheerleading, in Glee, even in trying to obey and please him during those nights, _this_ was what he approved of, her tearing apart of her classmate's family? How screwed up was that?

She felt sick in her stomach.

How screwed up was it that Rachel was being removed from the care of her loving fathers whereas Quinn was still sitting here, having dinner across the table from her sexually abusive father and her mother who couldn't care less?

**A/N. *Line taken from canon, S01E20 Theatricality. I wanted to incorporate it into my story because it's such a blunt, "Rachel" thing to say. Disclaimer: Glee is not mine.**


	8. At the Hospital

unexpected sabotage – Yes, indeed, they'll have a long road to recovery together and Rachel isn't the only one hurting, Shelby is too. This isn't what so expected when she thought about meeting Rachel for the first time.

btvscharmedgirl – Thank you, that is high praise indeed. I actually hinted in Chapter 1 that the saviour might be Shelby, when Rachel was thinking about how "[her fathers] had been so happy that Shelby their surrogate had good musical genes", indicating she does know who her mother is. Sue will continue to play a role in the girls' lives, however.

sillystarshine – Yes, I wanted to show that the rescue that so greatly comforted me because it meant she was out of harm's way, was actually incredibly distressing to Rachel, in contrast with the abuse that disturbed us so much that she found comforting in its normality despite being painful. Her worldview is being knocked all over the place now, and she's confused and lost, expecting pain and not getting it. I enjoyed writing about Shelby and Rachel's dreams of meeting each other, I wanted to show how similar they both were not just because on a superficial level that they both love Broadway but because on a deeper level, they both really crave for the other's approval. And as for Quinn helping to save Rachel, I actually really loved the idea that the bastard Russell is unwittingly going to do all he can to make sure Rachel stays safe and away from his fathers, it makes my stomach churn to think they're still walking around town despite being "not allowed" to see Rachel.

Anon – I think Rachel would never have been so obedient to another caregiver (e.g. Sue), if she thought they could be working with the "authorities" against her beloved fathers. She only trusts Shelby because she's her mother and she knew her fathers, was surrogate for them, and thus trusts that she at least is not against them purely out of homophobia. Although she will soon realize and have to deal with Shelby's anger against her fathers. As for incest, I briefly considered it but drew a line at sexual abuse for Rachel. Rachel misinterpreting rape as physical affection was just too disturbing for me to write.

Bueller – Yes it's sad but as Rachel learns and grows, the Rachel who has her own strong opinions will start peaking out when she realizes she doesn't have to be so obedient and submissive anymore.

HolyShootItzKori – I don't know if what Rachel goes through is so much "worse" as it is "different", but that's what I was going for. I think it would make for a unique friendship between Rachel and Quinn when they finally learn each others' secrets because they won't be "comparing" severity of abuse so much as just trying to help each other heal from the damage that has been inflicted on them. And I wanted to make Rachel younger cos I wanted her to have a better chance of recovery (she's kinda under-developed now) and also because like you said, I wanted to highlight her intelligence, her drive, her perfectionism, how much she expects out of herself, and how hard she pushes herself to get it. Just like Rachel on the show (but I couldn't really make her captain of a hundred clubs). And in my story, her perfectionism has also been made more extreme and warped so much that it borders on self-harm too.

beaner008 – Thank you. I wanted to stay true to the title of the story. It's not just the appearances the girls and their screwed up parents are putting up for the rest of the world, it's also the appearances they put up for each other, for their parents, and I hope the little dinner scenes where Quinn thinks something but says something else showed that. I think sometimes these commentary-type words fail to express what a story can, so I shall not attempt it. Glad you enjoyed it and thank you for your kind praises!

Frost47 – Read on, please, I'm glad you're captivated.

MaJorReader619 – I don't think it's possible to compare who's getting it worst, neither is it productive. What's important is the process of healing from these terrible situations. As for dictionaries, they are useful books, I'm not ashamed to say I use them all the time, when my vocabulary is woefully insufficient to express my ideas for a character.

Dreamsilver – Yeah but you know what they say – You can take her out of hell but you can't take hell out of her. It'll be a long road to recovery.

iceygaze – Thank you. Is this fic really more 'Angst' then 'Family' / 'Hurt/Comfort'? I wasn't sure when I started. And to answer your question, yes there will be a happy ending! I hope this chapter is a happy enough ending for one half of the duo? Depends on how you define "ending", I suppose.

snowdrop1026 – Shelby is kind of in shock now, precisely because she knows she has a lot of work ahead of. She'll learn as she goes along, but she's not superwoman and she won't be able to get it right all the time. She now knows she shouldn't get angry at Rachel but it's hard to control and well, she's no saint either. I'm going to try to write her as realistically as I do the other parents, and I do hope you'll see how hard she's trying and won't hate her for her inadequacies. (: She's got her work cut out for her helping Rachel, changing her mindset of what parents ought to be like, when her fathers are all she's known her entire life. Also, Rachel's homelife is a little more complicated than just the abuse, although everyone in her life is going to fixate on that, just like all my readers do. Being beaten isn't all she knows, there were times of warmth too, Hiram and her in the basement was a glimpse of that, and as everyone tells her how bad her fathers were, she'll remember the good times as well and get all messed up.

JAMES-EAI – Thank you! And thanks for remembering Quinn, she will be saved soon enough.

ajunebuga - Yeah I think it's more realistic this way. Unfortunately, imperfect Shelby helping Rachel deal with her issues is proving very difficult to write, so updates will slow down as I figure it out. And yes! "one day..." refers to Rachel's dreams of meeting Shelby as an equal.

**A/N. This chapter is a little different from the previous few, the perspective is a little different, more from the outside looking in. I found it difficult to write because I'm slightly too familiar with the technical workings of the hospital so I tended to want to include much of "what truly happens" that it interfered at times with my flow. I've tried my best to rein myself in, however, because what I really wanted to do was include the perspectives of health care workers who encounter such situations. Because as you might have guessed, I happen to be from that (healthcare) industry myself. So writing this was somewhat therapeutic for me, expressing our frustration and helplessness, how hard it is to rein in your emotions and stay clinical, as well as our coping mechanism and the lessons we learn. Thanks for humouring me.  
The new characters introduced here won't be major characters in the story but I'll use them for awhile to further Rachel's character development. Don't worry, there'll be more Shelby/Rachel moments later, and Quinn is not forgotten as well. :)**

Chapter 8. At the Hospital

It was a boring night in the ER. There had only been 2 patients who required his attention since his shift started 3 hours ago – a fat old man who was convinced that his chest pain after jogging was a heart attack (it was just muscle pain from unfitness), and an overly anxious mother who had taken him an hour to placate and reassure that no, her five-year-old daughter did not have Cystic Fibrosis, she was just having a bad case of the flu.

He twiddled his thumbs as he flipped through the copy of the most recent publication of the _Annals of Surgery_. He was a neurosurgeon by training but due to the lack of patients, he was required to pick up extra shifts in the ER. This was the problem with small town hospitals, he sighed, there was never anything to do. If it weren't for his wife nagging at him that she wanted to raise her kids in a small town like Lima, which also 'happened' to be her hometown, he would never have agreed to work at such a crummy hospital.

"Dr Lopez, there's a patient here you need to see!"

…

He stepped into the examination room and noticed an older woman and a young girl, maybe 12, inside. They bore a strong familial resemblance – mother and child, he would guess. An intern, Andy, was trying to get the mother to leave and he could see why the mother was adamantly refusing to do so. The young girl looked pretty worked over, bruises and a black eye gracing her face. If his own daughter looked like this, he would be pretty insistent on staying by her side too, at least until he had spoken to the doctor in charge of her care. _Interns_. He waved Andy to the side, and thankfully, the young intern backed down and moved to stand behind him.

"Good evening, I'm Dr Lopez, a neurosurgeon. How may I help you today?"

The young girl silently looked to her mother, who replied. "She was beaten up earlier in the day, including some blows to the head, but seemed fine after. Now, she's complaining of headache and nausea. She tried to vomit just now; nothing came out but she still feels nauseous. I remembered reading somewhere that head injuries are dangerous if accompanied by headache and vomiting, that's why I brought her here."

He noticed the girl looked down ashamedly when her mother mentioned she was 'complaining' but did not comment on it, filing it away to think about later.

"You did well to bring her here. Those can be dangerous symptoms when accompanied by recent head injury. Firstly, how may I address you?"

"I'm Shelby Corcoran, and this is Rachel Berry, my daughter. Please don't ask about our different last names, but I'm her real mother, her birth mother. It's a long story, but I just received temporary custody of her today. Her social worker is Sharon at Child Protective Services, she can explain everything. She was also the one who picked her up from the school after the fight."

"Alright, thank you. Please pass Andy the contact details of your social worker while I talk to Rachel here. Will that be okay?" He looked at both Rachel and Shelby.

Rachel nodded but Shelby looked at him distrustfully.

"I'll ask you to come back in when I have to examine her. Or get a female nurse to chaperone, if Rachel prefers to have her privacy."

Shelby finally nodded and followed the intern out.

Rachel stared at the retreating back of her mother, leaving her alone in the room with the doctor. He looked kind, but Rachel knew appearances didn't mean much.

She thought back to the short interaction between the two adults. She had felt kind of annoyed that Shelby had said she was "complaining". She had _not_! She hadn't said a word about the nausea or headache, it was Shelby who had asked her if she had a headache. She knew she looked young for her age, and now the doctor probably thought she was some whiny little kid.

But that small annoyance had been completely overwritten when Shelby had introduced her as her daughter. She hugged herself in delight at the memory. Rachel had introduced herself to Shelby as her daughter, of course, and she thought about Shelby as her mother all the time, even though she hadn't dared to say it out loud yet. But she hadn't expected Shelby to reciprocate and refer to her as _her daughter_ as well. And not just between themselves, but she introduced her as her daughter to the doctor! Did that mean she intended to keep Rachel and wouldn't deny their relationship?

She smiled and replayed the two words in her head. "My daughter"! Whatever happened after this, she never wanted to forget this moment, even if it had taken place in a cold examination room and not backstage at a Broadway theatre. This was real, unlike her Broadway fantasies, and she wanted to remember it forever.

Dr Lopez took a moment to study the young girl, who appeared to be lost in her thoughts. She was smiling after her mother, even if the smile did look a little sad. She held herself stiffly, so there were likely to be injuries under her clothes as well. Although she hid it quite well, he thought. An untrained eye, even a licensed doctor like any one of his interns, would not have been able to spot it. CPS was involved, her mother had said? This was likely to be a case of abuse, then. He sighed, wishing to have his boring evening back. Or even a hundred doting, neurotic mothers. Abuse cases were the worst to handle, they always unravelled his usually well-controlled emotions, always caused him to think of his children.

_Focus on the medicine_, he reminded himself. _All you can do is make sure she receives the best medical care, with as much gentleness and sensitivity as possible._ It wasn't enough, it never felt enough, but that was his duty as a doctor.

"Rachel? Hi, I'm Dr Lopez. Can you tell me what happened to you?"

Rachel looked fearfully at him, then back down at her hands. She knew she wasn't supposed to talk to doctors about these things, but her mother was the one who had brought her here. What was she allowed to say?

"I guess a lot has happened today so you don't know what to say, huh? My question _was_ a little vague. I've already said that I'm a neurosurgeon, and your mother told me that you're experiencing headache and nausea, right?"

Rachel nodded in agreement.

"Well, those could be symptoms of a concussion, that is when you bleed into your brain, which could prove to be potentially dangerous. So could you please describe to me how you got your injuries, specifically those to your head? I need to know in as much detail as possible, so I can manage you accordingly."

Oh! Right. The fight, she could talk about. "I don't remember so clearly but I got into a fight with some boys and they hit me a few times in the head. I think the last one was here," she pointed to the bruise on her left temple, "that's when I lost consciousness. I don't remember much else until I woke up in the nurse's office later."

"I see. Any other previous head injuries?"

Rachel remembered Dad kicking her in her head when he was punishing her after that dance recital rehearsal. She obviously couldn't say who did it, but she could at least say what happened. Bleeding into the brain sounded awfully scary.

"I was kicked in the head about 3 days ago, on the right side."

"I see. And was it barefooted or with shoes on?"

"Shoes. Erm, leather shoes. Soft."

"Alright. I still strongly suspect some intracranial bleeding, so I'll need to scan your brain, okay?"

Rachel looked dubiously at him.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt."

"It's not that." She frowned, considering her words carefully. "Would it be expensive? Could you check with Ms… with my mother first? To make sure she doesn't mind…"

"Don't worry, Rachel. You said you're only under her temporary custody? The state is still responsible for you, and they'll be paying your medical fees. Is that your only concern? Any other questions for me about the procedure? It's just a simple scan, nothing to worry about. It's very safe and we do it all the time."

Rachel visibly sighed with relief. "No sir, I don't have any questions. I'm okay with it, with anything. Just please let my mother know where I'm going. I don't want her to think I ran away or…"

"Of course."

Dr Lopez walked away to make the call to Radiology, all the while fuming inside. Maintaining his professional poker face had rarely been so difficult. The signs were all there, his short 5-minute consultation with Rachel had pretty much confirmed his suspicions. How had anyone not seen it?

…

"She shows signs of increased intracranial pressure and that, together with her significant history of recent head trauma, is strongly successive of an intracranial epidural hematoma. Her GCS is maintaining around 14 to 15, with no deterioration and she shows no pupillary abnormalities, neurological deficits, or cerebellar signs, which are excellent prognostic indicators. We did a Computed Tomography scan and the results are promising as well. The temporal location of the bleeding is not ideal, obviously, but the hematoma is small, with a thickness of only 3mm, and there is no midline shift evident..."

Shelby glared angrily at the intern. 'Obviously'? There was nothing obvious about the gibberish he was saying. "What on earth are you talking about? Speak English, damn it! Her what is 14? 14 out of what score?"

Andy shuffled anxiously and slowed his speech. "Her GCS. Glasgow Coma Scale. It comprises three tests: eye, verbal, and motor." He tried to simplify his words and remove the medical terms. "Rachel is opening her eyes spontaneously, obeys commands and is normally oriented, although sometimes she is a little confused."

"I know all that, that last part anyway, I was the one who brought her here. What does that scale or score or whatever it is mean? What is this intracranial epi-thing?"

Andy glanced around anxiously. Thankfully, Dr Lopez was nearby and stepped in to rescue the situation. "I'm so sorry, Ms Corcoran. Hi, my name is Dr Lopez, the neurosurgeon on call. We met at the ER just now. I apologise for my intern, he's quite new and fresh off his exams, so he still only knows how to speak in the language of medical textbooks."

Shelby did not laugh at his poor attempt at a joke.

"Rachel is doing fine. There is some bleeding on the left side of her brain, most likely due to the blow to her temple during her fight in the afternoon, and the bleeding caused the pressure in her skull to increase, which gave her a headache and the nausea. We've scanned her brain and it seems like the bleed is quite minor, although its location is a little worrying. It's nothing dangerous at the moment and we hope it will stop bleeding and clot on its own. We will want to keep her under observation, for at least the next 24 hours, examine her every hour to ensure that the bleed is not affecting her brain function, and do another scan come morning to monitor the clot size. We're hopeful it won't have grown."

Shelby tried to absorb the flood of information. At least this doctor spoke in English, but it was still too much information at one go.

"Wait. So Rachel is bleeding… into her _brain_?"

"Yes, just a little. Not exactly _into_ her brain, more in between the layers that cover her brain."

"How is that her "doing fine"? And why didn't she show any signs in the afternoon? She was fine at the CPS office and after that as well. We talked."

"It's likely something called a lucid interval. It happens when someone hits their head and starts bleeding into it. They may lose consciousness for a while but after they wake up, they are able to walk around and feel completely normal. Until this bleed builds up and causes the pressure in the head to rise and cause symptoms such as headache, nausea and loss of consciousness."

"Okay… so she's bleeding into her brain but the bleeding is small. And tomorrow you'll scan her brain again to make sure it stays small. What happens next?"

"If the clot maintains at its current size or becomes smaller, we'll monitor her weekly with scans to ensure that it keeps decreasing in size until it eventually disappears. If it increases, however, we may need to operate, which is why I will be staying in the hospital tonight, to monitor her condition and ensure that she can undergo surgery immediately should the need arise."

"Alright. Thank you, Dr Lopez."

"You're welcome, Ms Corcoran. Now, onto her other injuries. The bruises are extensive but superficial, there's no internal bleeding. The welts, on the other hand, are a little more serious – some of them, especially those that cut her skin, have gotten infected, and she will need IV antibiotics for the next few days to control the infection."

"So she'll have to stay in the hospital for a few days then?

"Ideally, yes. If she does well and is ready to go home, we might consider converting to oral antibiotics. However, she is really small and is quite underweight. That is probably why she starting showing symptoms despite the small bleed, her body's reserves are very low. She's also quite delayed in her development and will need to be fed special nutrition in the coming months and see a dietician regularly."

"Of course, I understand."

"You have a remarkable daughter, Ms Corcoran. Not a complaint throughout my examination, even though I had to conduct it without anesthetic – can't risk the medications causing her to feel drowsy and confusing our neurologic examinations."

Shelby nodded with a frown. That her daughter would subject herself to pain without a word of complaint was nothing to be proud of. It was just further proof of how much she had failed her.

"I understand from her social worker that the current suspicion is long-term child abuse by her fathers, although she continues to deny it. I'm sorry I have to ask you the next part but considering such severe physical abuse and neglect, but it would be remiss of me not to check for other kinds of abuse as well, such as those of a more sexual nature."

"What? No! Did she say anything that made you suspect this?"

"No she didn't. I'm sorry but her pattern of behaviour, denying all of the abuse despite all the physical evidence pointing towards it, leaves us unable to trust her denial of sexual abuse as well. I've discussed it with her social worker and we both agree this is necessary in order to arrange for appropriate psychiatric help for her. I can't perform the examination without her consent, however, and would like you to help us ask her. However, should she disagree, the photographs we've taken of her current injuries and the evidence we've amassed should be sufficient to present a solid case against her fathers, this is more for her sake than for the court case."

Shelby closed her eyes in despair and massaged her temple. She had only met Rachel a few hours ago, how could they expect her to make all these important decisions and considerations for her? A pelvic examination? She remembered those, they were thoroughly unpleasant.

This was certainly not how she had envisioned her first night with her daughter would be like.

…

_Finally, she was alone._

It had been a whirlwind of activity since the CT scan. Dr Lopez had asked what seemed like a hundred more questions, all of which she had tried to answer truthfully without mentioning the role of her fathers. It was hard, especially with the gigantic headache the… what was it?... epidural haemorrhage had been giving her. She made a mental note to google it when she got her hands on a computer.

Then, the intern Dr Andy had come in to take a complete medical history from her, since apparently, all the information they had on her was her up to date vaccination records. He had also tried to insert an IV plug, which took 2 tries and gave her a large bruise at her elbow crease.

That had certainly not pleased her mother, she thought amusedly.

Oh yeah, most importantly, her mother had held her hand and sat with her through all of it. It felt strange but was oddly comforting at times. Especially when Dr Lopez had to do that pelvic examination on her.

It still peeved her, that no one had believed her when she insisted she was not sexually abused but Rachel guessed with all the lying denials and half-truths she had said today, they didn't have much reason to believe her. The pelvic examination had been uncomfortable to say the least, especially considering she had never well, laid with anyone before, but Dr Lopez had been kind, talking her through every step of the procedure.

He had actually offered to ask a female colleague to do it, but Rachel had refused. He was the one who had examined the rest of her body and seen her naked, seen all the marks left by the punishments, it might as well be him who did the pelvic examination. Besides, he had been very considerate to her, asking her permission before he did anything, explaining everything he did so she wouldn't be surprised – he really was as kind as he looked. He reminded him of someone, but her befuddled brain just wouldn't cooperate.

She looked down at her hands, one of which – her left – was currently encased in her mothers' larger hands. Her mother who was now sleeping soundly beside her, slumped at her bedside. She studied the hands that had been holding hers all night. The fingers were long, feminine and graceful but most importantly, these hands had never ceased to be gentle. She wanted to hold them forever and never let go.

Her mother had not said much since they came to the hospital but she had stayed by her bedside all night, even during the pelvic exam. That was when she had gripped her hand most tightly, so tightly it almost hurt, and when she heard it was negative, she had burst into tears. It'd been so shocking to see her cry, mainly because she had seemed so strong, so _adult_. Big girls don't cry, right? That's what Dad said. But her mother had, and it was all so confusing and she was so, so tired.

Another nurse had come in then, Nurse Martha, a small lady with a friendly smile. She talked a lot and wasn't awkward around her, unlike Dr Andy. It made her feel at ease.

"_Your ribs are bruised, and have been for the past few weeks by the looks of it. Hasn't breathing been painful?"_

_Rachel chewed her lower lip anxiously. Breathing generally hurt most of the time. The bruises always took weeks to heal and she never could avoid a beating for that long a time. She did not reply but the nurse seemed to be able to read her mind. _

"_The doctor says there'll be no vigorous exercise for at least the next 2-3 weeks, okay?"_

"_Dancing?"_

"_Certainly not," she chided gently as her fingers wrapped the bandages firmly around her torso. _

_Rachel looked to her mother for help but Shelby was nodding in agreement with the nurse._

_No more dance recital, then, Rachel guessed. She didn't know whether to feel disappointed or grateful._

"_What about singing? Can I still go for Glee practice?"_

_The girl was this badly injured and all she cared about was singing and dancing? Martha clucked impatiently and Shelby silently agreed with a shake of her head._

"_If you keep stationary, sure. But it'll hurt to talk. To breathe. Singing won't cause your ribs to shift out of place but it'll still be really painful."_

_Rachel shrugged and smiled. She'd been singing and dancing for the past few weeks, and had been doing okay. At least she could still go for Glee._

Her head felt heavy and she was thoroughly exhausted, although she hadn't really done much the entire day besides get cold drinks splashed in her face and get beaten up. But not yet, she didn't want to fall asleep just yet.

She looked at the peaceful form of her mother who was still sleeping beside her, and smiled. No one had done this for her before, not even her fathers when she broke her leg when she was a kid. Tomorrow, when she was feeling better, she was certain Shelby would start scolding and punishing her for her misdeeds from today. She didn't want to go to sleep yet, didn't want tomorrow to come and spoil this magic.

This was nice, just lying here with her mother by her side, holding hand. She wanted to savour this moment forever. But her eyelids grew heavy and eventually, the traitorous things dropped completely as she fell into a deep sleep.

…

In the nurse's locker room, Martha sat on the floor and cried. The brutality of the injuries gracing that young girl's small frame… It truly broke her heart. And it was her fathers who had done this?

She grappled for her cellphone to make a rare long distance phone call home. Such calls were expensive and precious but she really needed one now. It wasn't that she didn't trust her husband to look after her children, that soft-hearted man wouldn't harm a puppy. It's just, her heart was falling into pieces for that poor girl, and it hurt so much that she couldn't see her own two kids, couldn't be with them now. She needed to at least hear their voice, to know they were safe, healthy and happy.

That's all any parent wanted for their children, right?

…

Bloody social worker fools, don't they know that _any_ head trauma is to be regarded as a medical emergency and requires immediate medical treatment? Damn it, this girl should have been admitted hours ago, right after the fight happened!

He knew he was being unreasonable – logically, he knew that. The first aid training social workers received was minimal at best but he was furious and needed somebody to be angry at. Seeing the broken body of the small child nearly broke his heart and anger was a much easier emotion to handle than sorrow. She might be 14, soon to be 15, only a year younger than his elder daughter but her small frame reminded him more of his 12-year-old son. The thought of anyone hurting him… He would _kill _them before he allowed anything like that to happen.

And he simply couldn't imagine hurting his children himself, either one of them, so badly. It was barbaric, a violation of the most primal human instincts.

He slumped backwards into his chair. Anger was exhausting. Besides, if he was honest, the real reason he was so angry was because if she had come in earlier in the afternoon, he wouldn't have been on duty, wouldn't have been the doctor in charge of her care. He wouldn't have to stay on for the next 24 hours to ensure she was alright, when all he really wanted to do now was go home to hug his two children and tell them how much he loved them.

_Focus on the medicine_, he reminded himself again, as he cracked open her file and studied it diligently with red-rimmed eyes, detailing out her management plan that would not only include follow-ups with him, her primary neurosurgeon, but also the dietician, psychiatrist, psychologist and the wound dressings nurse.

"_Would it be expensive? Could you check with Ms… with my mother first? To make sure she doesn't mind…"_

He clenched his jaw tightly as his ill-disciplined mind recalled her timid question from earlier. What had those monsters done to her, that despite her extremely painful infected injuries and the possibility of a concussion, her greatest fear had not been of going through unknown medical procedures alone or of a ill prognosis but of her parent's response to the cost of her medical treatment?

_Focus, damn it. _

…

1am. 11 more hours to go until this shift ends.

He was physically exhausted and emotionally wrung out. He shook his head vigorously and gulped down the last of his coffee. It was no use. This was not the exhaustion of late night studying sessions, it wasn't something caffeine could cure.

He had thought the books had taught him everything he needed to know. They were thick, huge volumes, all written by experts in their field, and he had devoured them cover to cover, determined to be the best doctor ever. He had aced all his classes, made the Dean's list 3 years out of 4. His classmates nicknamed him 'Professor' and came to him for academic help all the time, his revision notes were even photocopied and circulated among his juniors.

But nothing in those books had prepared him for this.

He knew, of course, all the signs of NAI, had seen many pictures in his textbooks. He could recite them forward and backward, categorized by age group, divided into clinical signs and radiological findings, listed alphabetically or cephalo-caudally.

But it had been different when he was the one behind the camera taking photographs of those very same signs. Because the photos weren't just signs listed in a book. When he lowered the camera, there she still was, lying there looking up at him trustingly. She wasn't just a bunch of pictures, she was a real life human girl.

No book, not even the ones teaching patient care and communication skills, had taught him what to say to a girl who had been injured by the very people who were supposed to look after and protect her.

And he, 'Professor Andy', he mocked bitterly, had made a complete fool of himself, stammering through a medical interview he thought he had perfected, then botching a simple plug setting and blood draw. He recalled the dull green bruise he had left on the girl's left cubital fossa, and wished he could transfer it onto himself somehow, even though he knew it was a medical impossibility. She did not need another bruise added to her battered body, she had received enough bruises for a lifetime.

The worst part was, all through her mother's irate complaints and thinly veiled threats, as his trembling hands dug bruises into her soft skin, she had studied the needle that he was threading through her skin, glancing back at her mother and sending him apologetic looks. And when he had finally managed to set the plug, she had given him the brightest smile and thanked him for his help.

Did she think him a monster too, like the bastards who had done this to her? Why else would she be apologizing and thanking him for causing her pain?

Rachel, he reminded himself. Her name was Rachel, not "her", not "the small girl", not "the abused child" and certainly not "Room 44".

It was always much easier to distance himself from his patients. He was used to it, even excelled at it, the clinical scenarios they had been presented with everyday during tutorials and Problem-Based Learning. But he was not going to do it anymore. This was not a textbook, not a simulated examination. It was the real world, and _Rachel_ was a real person who deserved to be treated as such, not just a clinical scenario.

He was going to learn how to become the good doctor that he had always wanted to be, even if it meant throwing aside his textbooks and starting from scratch.

Starting with _Rachel_.

…

Shelby shot up from her sleep, panting heavily. What a horrible nightmare, she must have fallen asleep while memorizing her script for 'Spring Awakening' to have dreamt such a morbid, vivid and graphic dream of child abuse. And of her own daughter! Her daughter whom she hadn't met for almost 15 years, her daughter who was now a teenager, her daughter who…

… her daughter who was lying right beside her, whose hand she was holding, whose bed she had just a few seconds ago been slumped over.

It was true, then. It wasn't a nightmare.

Except maybe in the metaphorical sense. A nightmare in which she woke up this morning in New York, looking forward to a day of lessons and rehearsals and now, not even 24 hours later, she was waking up in the hospital beside her abused daughter.

But the Rachel of the day looked nothing like she did now. She looked so angelic in her sleep. Shelby hadn't even noticed how tense and uptight she had been all day, until now, watching her sleep, dark lashes covering tired eyes and previously tense shoulders now relaxed against the bed. She looked even younger, even smaller, on the large hospital bed that she only occupied about a third of.

Lovingly, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and smiled when Rachel leaned her cheek into her hand, snuggling into it.

Be strong, Shelbs, she told herself. You've got to be strong for Rachel. She's been through so much already and she's going to have a lot to deal with.

But now, in the quiet of the night, as all the world slept and no one was watching, Shelby wept. She grieved for the years of suffering that her little girl had had to go through, for the decade and half of Rachel's childhood that she had lost and could never get back; for the broken, painfully obedient child who despite her severe injuries, despite having had to go through a pelvic examination, be photographed naked, and then have all her raw wounds cleaned and dressed, had not yet uttered a word of complaint or a cry of pain, who had instead _thanked_ her for staying with her and for holding her hand, as though that were some great gift.

It had been the only thing she had been able to do all night, to hold that hand. She hadn't known what words to say, what else she could do, all she had been able to do the entire time Rachel had been interrogated, examined, photographed and poked was cling onto her small hand.

She would need to do better tomorrow, she told herself firmly, as tears continued to pour down her cheeks, dampening the mattress covers.

But they weren't all sad tears, for she wept too, the unfinished tears from earlier when the doctor had told her Rachel was still a virgin and untouched sexually, she wept with relief that despite everything, her daughter was going to be okay, physically at least, and she wept with thankfulness that her daughter was hers again.

Somehow, despite all her inadequacies and failings as a mother, God had seen fit to return her daughter to her.

And she was going to do absolutely everything she could, to help her little girl heal.


	9. Conversations, Part 1

Dreamsilver – Quinn is back in this chapter but sorry, still no focus on Quinn! And not for the next few chapters either, because she'll be safely at her sleepover – not much drama can happen there. She'll be mentioned, however, unlike in the previous chapter, which was my own hospital chapter that she obviously couldn't be in. Yup, I'm studying to be a doctor, hence my desire to bring up the thoughts of Health Care Workers towards such situations – a lot of it is my own feelings, heh.

beaner008 – Thanks! She will, but it'll take some time. Where I started this fic is somewhere around post-Invitationals in canon and while the whole April Rhodes fiasco didn't happen in my timeline, she hasn't really made friends with any of the other Gleeks yet.

GleeFanatic1988 – Thanks!

Lexi-Nicole21 – Thank you! Not in this chapter, but he'll definitely have a talk with Santana. I don't know if it'll be what you think it is, though.

MaJorReader619 – Yes, there'll be some pezberry friendship eventually. I love Shelby too, Rachel deserves a good mom after her two sucky dads.

beverlie4055 – Thanks!

JAMES-EAI – Her dads might make appearances later but as of now, no way in hell would Shelby or any of the hospital staff allow them anywhere near Rachel.

Gleek1990 –Thanks! Faberry friendship, not relationship. But like in canon, some scenes might be iffy/misleading, so Faberry relationship fans can assume what they will. No actual relationship, though.

**A/N. Sorry for the later than normal update. This chapter is split into two. I was trying to finish writing one day in one chapter (as opposed to the past 3 days in 8 chapters), so "Conversations" was supposed to be a longer single chapter. But this has been a crazily busy week, and I've only written this much and I think it's a pretty good place to stop. **

Chapter 9. Conversations I

6am, Pre-rounds.

Andy crept into Room 44 as silently as possible, not wanting to wake its occupant up. He had left rounding on Rachel's to the last, knowing that she'd had a long night. And according to the nursing charts, a late night as well.

"Good morning, Dr Andy," Rachel whispered.

"Hello Rachel, good morning to you too. I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"Shh," she shushed softly, casting a meaningful glance at the sleeping form of her mother. "Don't worry, you didn't wake me up, I was already awake."

She had actually woken up an hour ago and had spent the past hour simply watching the sleeping form of her mother. Shelby was no longer holding her hand but was still slumped by her bedside, half sharing her pillow. She had thought it a dream when she had just woken up, had scarcely believed her mother was still with her, keeping vigil by her bedside. So much so that she had almost reached out to touch her to convince herself she was real. But surely Shelby would have been angry to be woken up like that, and so, for the past hour, Rachel had contented herself with studying and memorizing every contour of her mother's beautiful face.

"I'm sorry," he lowered his voice. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm okay, thank you."

"Anymore headache and nausea?"

"No, sir. I'm feeling alot better than I did yesterday, thank you."

"That's good. Dr Lopez will be rounding soon, after which I'll bring you down to Radiology for your CT scan, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

He moved to leave but a soft "I'm sorry, sir" stopped him in his tracks.

"Hmm? What are you sorry for?"

"My mom yelling at you yesterday, when you had difficulty setting my IV plug. I'm sorry."

"Oh, right. She was right to be angry, I shouldn't have had to poke you twice. I'm sorry for my incompetence."

"It's okay. You're new, right?"

"Yup, fresh out of graduation, 1st week on the job. How did you know?

"I heard Dr Lopez say..." she trailed off.

"You heard him scolding me just now? You were already awake then?"

"I'm sorry..."

"No, it's okay. Yes, he was angry with me because I couldn't get the blood draw from another patient." He smiled sheepishly. "I still have a lot to learn."

"I'm sure you'll do better today," she smiled cheerfully, hoping to encourage him. "I bet Dr Lopez failed many times too, when _he_ was an intern."

Andy smiled. "Thank you, Rachel. Now please try to get some rest before he comes around, ok? Your body needs plenty of rest in order to heal properly"

Rachel lay back down and closed her eyes, but sleep did not come easily. Yesterday, her head had hurt too much for her to really think clearly, but now that she was feeling better, she had a lot to think about, and she didn't know where to start.

Beside her, Shelby smiled, although she neither opened her eyes nor lifted up her head. Rachel had called her _mom_.

...

Rachel sat up in her bed and looked out of the window. Dr Lopez and her mother were speaking at the nurse's counter outside her room but the door was closed and she couldn't hear what they were saying. She couldn't read their lips either, because their bodies were angled. So she studied their body language instead. Again, Dr Lopez reminded her of someone.

Oh! Dr Lopez… Santana Lopez! She should have known, it was so obvious. Both were Hispanic, with tan skin, dark brown hair and eyes, and both carried themselves with an air of confidence and self-assurance. Plus in a small town like Lima, few people who were unrelated shared the same surnames.

But she could see why she hadn't figured it out last night – The two might look alike but they behaved very differently. Dr Lopez was warm and gentle, his voice firm but compassionate and he was very protective of his patients. Whereas Santana was mean and bitchy, flying into a rage easily, yelling and threatening to go "all Lima Heights on your sorry ass". And there probably wasn't a single person in school that Santana hadn't made up a derogatory name for.

Although, on second thoughts, maybe it was just that they behaved differently towards her. When Santana was with Brittany, especially in Glee club when she thought no one was looking, she behaved differently – she was affectionate, all smiles and laughter. She was very protective too, always defending the less intellectually endowed blonde against the laughter and mocking of others, which was often considering the numerous silly and random comments Brittany often threw out.

She wondered if Dr Lopez would continue to be so kind to her if he knew his daughter hated her. And more importantly, what Santana would say if she were to find out what Dr Lopez now knew about Rachel. She sighed, she just had to make sure Dr Lopez wouldn't find out that she knew Santana.

But there were far more important things to worry about now, like what the two adults were talking about. They were discussing her, she was certain of it, and she was so tired of adults talking about her all day without including her in their conversations! Nurse Jasmine and Coach Sylvester reporting her to Child Protective Services. Ms Sharon at CPS talking to her fathers without let her see them. Ms Sharon again telling Ms Shelby all about her. Ms Shelby talking to Dr Andy last night. And now Dr Lopez talking to Ms Shelby. She was sitting right here, she could see them right out there, and it was like she was invisible.

She was almost 15, and while she understood that she was still a minor, she felt she was more mature and intelligent than they were giving her credit for. She wasn't trying to be nosey or a busybody but if it was her life they were discussing, she wanted to be involved in that. These adults whom she had met less than 24 hours were being extraordinarily nice to her but they also treated her like a child and she was tired of it. She wanted to know what was going on, they had no right to make all these life-changing decisions on her behalf without even consulting her first.

She was considering how to move her IV drips and bring them along with her to the door when the two adults stopped talking. Sigh, maybe next time then.

Shelby walked in alone and Rachel looked at her mother expectantly. "What did Dr Lopez say?"

"Your CT scan was good, he expects you to recover fully. We were just discussing your management plan. You're expected to be discharged tomorrow evening, and we needed to sort out your follow-up appointments first."

"Follow-up appointments?"

"With him and other doctors. Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it."

Rachel looked down at her hands. "Oh. Okay." She felt fine, and if this concussion was no longer an issue, she didn't need any more appointments. She supposed they were for the supposed injuries on her back. She'd had far worse before, and they would heal in time, they always did. But she also knew better than to argue with her parents. They made the decisions and she just had to obey.

"Are you feeling okay? Later around 11, I'll have to leave for awhile to see Sharon at CPS, then see about living arrangements etcetera. And then I'll need to drop by your school to settle some paperwork for your change in guardianship. Is there anything you want me to pick up for you there besides your homework?"

"My Glee assignment from Mr Schuester? I didn't make it to practice yesterday, could you explain to him what happened? I've never missed Glee before and I'm the leader, I should set a good example, I wouldn't want him to think I didn't think Glee was important..."

"Sure, I understand."

"Anything else you need me to pick up for you while I'm out? You probably aren't used to the hospital toiletries..."

"No need, I'm fine, thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Ms Shelby. You sound like you have a lot to do already, I'm sorry." She looked down at the blanket covering her legs, fingers playing with the material.

Shelby sat down on the chair beside Rachel's bed where she had spent the night. "It's no trouble, Rachel... What's on your mind?"

Rachel did not reply immediately, but Shelby waited patiently in silence. She had learnt over the past 24 hours that as much as Rachel talked, she thought a lot more, and sometimes needed time to process these thoughts before daring to speak them out. Sure enough, her question came a moment later.

"Why did you come for me?"

Shelby frowned, not understanding the question, "You just said it yourself, I came _for you_."

"There are foster parents CPS works with and group homes and orphanages, you could have just left me there."

"What do you mean, don't you want me here?"

"No! I do want you here. I meant..."

"Yes?"

"Your upcoming show in New York. Spring Awakening? It was supposed to be good."

Shelby's eyes widened. "How did you know about that?"

"Daddy told me your name before, and they mentioned you were going to New York because Broadway was your dream, so I've been googling you to find out more about you." She looked anxiously at Shelby.

"Okay... That would mean you know more about me than I do about you, then." This was strange, she hadn't expected Rachel's fathers to have shared that with her. What had Rachel found out about her online? She was pretty sure the shows she'd been in were all pretty small but that hadn't stopped her daughter from finding out about the upcoming show. Rachel's eyes were still worriedly searching her face for something, but she wasn't sure what, or what she was supposed to say to that. In all her fantasies of meeting her daughter, she had never entertained the possibility that she might already know who she is, and she wasn't prepared for such a situation.

"Are you angry? That I googled you."

"No, not all. It's perfectly understandable that you want to find out more about me. Now that I'm here, though, is there anything you want to ask me? I'm sure I can give you more information about myself than Google can." She waited as Rachel took a long pause to think.

"Why did you leave your show to fly here? It's opening in a month. It's your dream, isn't it? Broadway?" It was the one thing she had always thought she shared with her mother, their dream of Broadway.

"You needed me," Shelby replied honestly.

Rachel blinked at her.

"Between having you and the possibility of Broadway, Rachel, you'll always come first. Even yesterday, when I hadn't met you. And now that I've seen you, I'm absolutely certain of it."

Rachel was still silent and Shelby felt a burning desire to explain herself further.

"Besides, if I were honest with myself, I was never going to make it big on Broadway. I'm 35 and have never even gotten a supporting role in any Broadway show." Shelby smiled wistfully. She left out the part where the reason she had stayed on so long despite her lack of and little hope for success, was because of her promise to herself to become successful before she met a 18-year-old Rachel. That was but a broken promise now.

"Anyway, I was earning much more in my part time job. I was just performing because I loved it."

"Part time job?"

"As a vocal instructor. I lived on that money when I went for auditions. At first, it was just a means to earn some money, and a job I was well qualified for but I've since grown to love it. And now I'm glad, because I can do that just as easily here in Lima, Ohio as there in New York. Although hmm, now that you've reminded me, I have many calls to make to find new teachers for my students back in New York." She rubbed her temple at the onset of a headache brought on by the thought of all the administrative matters she would have to attend to in order to sort out this whole move across states.

Rachel looked at her curiously.

"I caught the earliest flight here when CPS called, so I have yet to make any arrangements for any of my students."

"Oh. Thank you, Ms Shelby." She smiled at her mother. She still didn't really understand her mother's reasons for coming for her. She hadn't really _needed_ Shelby, she trusted her fathers would have somehow worked things out with CPS and in the meantime, she was old enough to handle herself in a group home or foster parents or wherever CPS would have placed her. But she wasn't going to look a gift horse in its mouth.

"Enough with 'Ms Shelby', Rachel, when are you going to start calling me 'mom'?" Shelby purposefully kept her tone light-hearted and her words direct. Rachel misunderstood her all too easily and too frequently assumed she was angry. Shelby honestly wondered what in the last 24 hours Shelby could be angry at Rachel about. She had been infuriatingly polite, unceasingly obedient, and painfully eager. Shelby winced inside as she recalled the luggage incident.

Rachel whipped her head around. _What?_

"I heard you this morning, apologizing to Andy on behalf of your "mom" for… what was it? I believe the word you used was "yelling"."

It was now Rachel's turn for her eyes to widen. But unlikely Shelby's previously, hers were widened in fear, not just shock. "I'm sorry…" she began, and Shelby rushed to clarify herself.

"I'm not angry. I was very pleased, in fact, to hear you refer to me as your mom. I would like it very much if you could continue to call me mom when I'm awake as well, but only when you're ready, okay? Do it in your own time, when you want to."

Rachel considered Shelby's words carefully. "I call you my mother in my head all the time," she confessed.

"Okay..." _That was a good thing, right?_

"And you told them I'm your daughter yesterday, when you introduced me to Dr Lopez."

"I did," Shelby agreed, recalling her ER experience last night, although she had been too anxious at that time to really register what she was saying. She wondered where Rachel was taking this conversation.

Rachel twisted the blanket she was clutching in her hands, trying to come up with the words to express what she wanted to say.

"I haven't behaved properly, I made you angry so many times yesterday, I haven't done anything right to deserve it."

"Huh? Deserve what?" Shelby asked, honestly baffled at the sudden turn in the conversation.

"The right to call you mom," Rachel explained earnestly, looking up at Shelby. "Because my behaviour, good or bad, reflects on you, and I can only call you mom when I behave well, otherwise it'll reflect really badly on you."

"It?" Shelby was still thoroughly confused.

"My bad behaviour. It'll reflect badly on you, that you didn't teach me well. I'll always try my best, I promise you, but somehow I always still make mistakes. I make mistakes a lot." Her last few words were mumbled into the blanket as her head lowered back down in shame.

"Was that what your fathers told you?"

Rachel nodded. "A lot of people said mean things about them being homosexuals all the time, especially criticisms about how two gay men could never raise a child properly, much less a daughter. And my fathers would get angry and scold me, telling me it was my fault, that if I were a better daughter, the other people wouldn't have the ammunition to attack them with. If I was better than their kids, people wouldn't be able to criticize their child-raising abilities."

"Oh Rachel, I'm so sorry I left you with them. You don't know how truly sorry I am."

"I don't mind, honest!"

"I didn't mind," Rachel corrected herself. "Actually, I think it's quite cool of you to have agreed to surrogate for a homosexual couple. It mustn't have been an easy decision, especially when I'm sure there were also a lot of heterosexual couples who desired a child. And you chose right, really you did, my dads loved me and tried to raise me properly, even though it must have been hard, them being males and I'm a girl. I mean, topics like puberty and what to do when I first get my period were really awkward for them but they really did try their best."

"And I didn't mind that they were homosexuals, or that homophobia was so prevalent in our town. I liked to correct the wrong and outdated thinking of others, and I liked having the chance to defend my dads. They do so much for me, it's the least I could do. I also liked proving those detractors wrong by being the best student I can be. I mean, I screwed up a lot still, and I still have much room for improvement but overall, I think my grades and performing ability far surpasses those of my peers."

Shelby smiled at the last few words. How could Rachel have such low and high self-esteem at the same time? But her smile quickly faded as she processed the rest of what Rachel had said. She shook her head, the rest of her little speech had contained nothing to be amused about.

There was so much she wanted to say about the real reasons she was sorry she left Rachel with her fathers, but clearly, Rachel was very protective of them and now was not the right time to have this talk. Criticising them and their child-raising practices would probably alienate her right now. She sighed. Anyway, she wanted to listen and understand more about Rachel's childhood first, before addressing some of these clearly very deep-seated mindsets.

"Okay… So, just to see if I understand what you're saying, if you behaved well, you could call them 'Dad' because it reflected well on them. And if you behaved poorly, you had to call them 'sir' because you no longer had that right."

Rachel nodded. "Until I got punished and changed my wrong behaviour, and they weren't angry with me anymore. Then I could call them Dad and Daddy again. Hiram is Daddy, so it's not so confusing for them."

Shelby really couldn't care less who was Dad or Daddy.

"Well, things will be different with me, okay? I'm your mother no matter what you do. Or Mom, or Mommy, or Mama, or whatever you want to call me, really. And while I doubt you could, or would, ever do anything I'd be ashamed of, even if I were ever to be ashamed of any of your misbehaviours, I would never be ashamed of _you_. Even if I were to get angry at you, you'd still be my daughter, there's no such thing as waiting until you're punished. No matter what you do, Rachel, you would still be my daughter, you'll always be my daughter, and I'll always be your mother."

"But people will think…"

"Let them think what they will. I bore you for 9 months in my womb and then I delivered you, right here in this very hospital. You are my daughter, and I want everyone to know that. I'm proud of it, proud that you're mine." She looked at Rachel, to see tears streaking down her daughter's cheeks. But these things needed to be said, so she pressed on. "I would _love_ to hear you call me mom. Nothing would make me prouder."

She opened up her arms and when Rachel hesitated to lean in, she drew her in instead. Holding the small frame tightly in her arms, she tasted the saltiness of her own tears that were now rolling down her cheeks as well.

"Thank you, Mommy," Rachel whispered into her clothes, and Shelby felt the body she was holding tense a little. She ran her hand up and down her daughter's back and smiled when she felt her relax again into the embrace.

"Thank you, Rachel. You don't know how much hearing this means to me, thank you so much."

Shelby leaned down and kissed the top of Rachel's forehead, earning her a smile and another flood of tears.

_One difficult conversation down, how many more to go?_

…

She hadn't seen Rachel walking to school on her drive here, and she hadn't spotted her before school or in any of their classes either. Quinn stood in front of her own open locker, but was staring at Rachel's three lockers down. Last night's dinner conversation replayed itself in her head for the millionth time and she sighed. She had to find her and make things right.

"Mr Schuester, may I speak to you, please?"

"Come on in, Quinn. What's the matter?"

"I just wanted to ask, where is Rachel? She wasn't at Glee yesterday and I haven't seen her in school today."

"I believe she's serving a one day suspension for fighting in school yesterday. The fighting was also the reason why she was not at practice yesterday."

Oh! Quinn sighed in relief. She had been so worried that Rachel had been badly injured in yesterday's fight that she still suspected she had indirectly caused. However, her relief came too soon, as Mr Schuester continued after his pause, almost absent-mindedly.

"However, I do believe that it was Child Protective Services who picked her up yesterday on counts of suspected child abuse. At least, that's what we teachers have been told."

"What? But she got into a fight, she got those injuries from the fight, it had nothing to do with her fathers, right?" She rushed anxiously. "I mean, can't the doctors tell the difference?"

"Are you alright, Quinn? I, too, am concerned for Rachel, but you seem very worried and anxious. I wasn't aware you two were already such close friends."

Quinn scoffed internally, Mr Schuester could be so clueless sometimes. But at least he was an adult who would listen to her, and he cared enough for Rachel to try to fix things for his star performer, right? Honestly, he was her best shot.

She sighed wearily and began, "It was my fault."

"Don't be silly, Quinn, it couldn't possibly be your fault. You couldn't have known about her fathers, and right now, I do believe no one really knows what's going on with her fathers either, except probably Rachel herself. And you most certainly did not injure her, it was David Karofsky and Azimio Adams who underestimated their own strength when they beat her up. Although it is surprising, apparently she was the one who hit them first, she even confessed to it. That's why she got suspended and not them."

"I know, but I started it," Quinn replied, anxious to get it off her chest. "Yesterday morning, I told everyone in school to slushy her, that's probably why she did something so uncharacteristically aggressive. She normally doesn't respond to any of the bullying with violence." She should know, she was often the one doing the bullying. "But you weren't here yesterday morning, she got so many slushies from every student in the school. I thought she would just get a few or just from the popular kids or something, I didn't expect every student in this school to listen to me and follow through... even the others in Glee club slushied her as well."

She kept her eyes trained on Mr Schuester throughout her whole confession, wanting – needing – to see the disappointment and anger in his face, what her father would never have given her. She had never felt like this before, like she needed somebody, an adult, to tell her she was wrong and help her to make things right again.

Will sighed and said the first thing that came to his mind. "I suppose that means you're not friends then."

Quinn resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and shook her head guiltily. She remembered when she joined Glee club, after everyone had gotten over their initial shock of 3 Cheerios joining the loser Glee club. Rachel had walked over to them after Glee one day, introduced herself and stuck out her hand to them. Santana and herself had called the forthright girl rude names as always, and the three of them had sauntered off, leaving Rachel standing there alone, her outstretched hand still unmet. At that time, they had found it incredibly amusing but now, looking back, it had been rather mean. Rachel had just been trying to be nice and welcoming. She shifted uneasily, she wasn't used to feeling like this, feeling _sorry_.

Fabrays were always sure, never sorry. Fabrays put people in their place and never gave a shit about them. But Quinn was tired of being a Fabray. When the high from having so much power faded, all that was left behind was guilt, self-loathing and emptiness.

"I heard about the slushy craze yesterday from Ms Pillsbury, but I hadn't linked it to Rachel's fight until you mentioned it and I certainly never thought you had anything to do with it." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "Why did you do it?"

Why indeed. How was she supposed to answer that question? Because my father told me to? Because he raped me in more ways than one the previous night and I was having a bad day? Because I was envious of her perfect fathers, her perfect life and wanted to make it suck just a little more to balance things out? Because I'm a jealous, mean and cruel bitch.

She must have paused too long because Mr. Schuester answered for her. "You can't give me a reason, can you? You bully her just because you're supposed to, without thinking of why. You're popular and I understand she isn't but that is not a reason to be mean to her, do you understand? Especially not when she's now also your teammate. Sectionals are coming up in a month's time and I really hope all of you can come together as a team. We really need to win this to get to Regionals and place there so we can stay on for another year."

She nodded, although her mind was far from any show choir competition.

"Mr. Schuester, what can I do to make things right with her?"

"You're in Glee club, Quinn. What do you think?"

…

"Hi Rachel, how are you feeling?" Nurse Martha greeted as she entered the room. "Where's your mom?"

"She went out to settle some administrative matters with CPS and my school."

"Sweetheart, I am so sorry," Martha said as she busied herself with a tray of instruments.

Rachel blinked at her. "What are you sorry for?"

Was she going to poke her with a needle again? It wasn't really painful, especially when the nurse did it, but it looked quite gross to watch the needle enter her skin and blood flow out just like that. She looked around for the blood taking tray with its multi-coloured tubes and wondered morbidly if the nurse could drain her entire body of all its blood just with those tubes.

Martha couldn't help but smile, she had worked in the paediatric ward long enough to know that look. "No, honey, no more blood-taking, I've got no tubes and needles here," she said, showing her the contents of her tray. "Remember, I promised to only take your blood in the morning after breakfast, so you won't keep getting poked throughout the day."

Rachel nodded and smiled. Nurse Martha had told her this morning. She had informed her that Dr Lopez had been unhappy with Andy's blood taking the previous night and had instructed Nurse Martha to do all of Rachel's bloods instead. The experienced nurse was a lot better at it than Andy, she had hardly felt anything before she was done.

"I know, you told me, and I appreciate it very much. But if you need to poke me at any other time, it's okay. This morning, I overheard Dr Lopez scolding Dr Andy for not being able to draw blood from another patient, and I don't want you to get scolded too. I'm a big girl, I'm not scared of needles." Rachel looked up at the nurse, "It's not painful, just kind of gross."

"It is, isn't it?" Martha laughed lightly. "Don't you worry about me, honey. And Andy couldn't find the vein, that's why he was scolded. Not that it's his fault, small sick kids have tough veins to find, he just needs a little more practice. Don't worry, I won't let him near you."

"It's okay, he's been very nice to me. When he took me down for the CT, he very patiently entertained all my questions about the scan, and about my diagnosis, which is a stable epido-no, epidural haemorrhage. He was very thorough, even drew me pictures on his notepad. Look!" She showed the older woman the sheets of paper with detailed drawings and neat labels, and Martha laughed. She knew Andy often felt frustrated at his difficulty with communicating at the level of young children and she was glad Rachel, at least, could understand him and appreciated his medical mumbo-jumbo.

"So he can practise on me, I don't mind. I understand it's difficult to learn something when it's new. I should be one of the bigger kids in this ward, so it should be easier to draw my blood, right?"

"You're a real sweetheart, aren't you? I've worked here for 8 years and I've never had a patient volunteer themselves as a guinea pig to the newbie interns for blood drawing practice. You should go tell him that later, he'll be very pleased to hear it. Although no, I'm not gosing to risk him getting scolded by Dr Lopez. He'll naturally get enough practice the longer he works here."

She shook her head in amusement.

"But as fascinating as this conversation is, I didn't come here to discuss venipuncture with you. I was apologizing because I have to change your dressings and it's going to hurt a fair bit."

"Oh. It's okay." She pushed her blanket to the side, flipping over so she lay prone on the bed instead of on her back and propped herself up on her elbows to look at the nurse. "Is this alright?"

"It's perfect, honey. Thank you."

Rachel smiled. Martha was really nice to her and had been mothering her since she was moved up from the ER to the room. She called her kind names like 'sweetheart' and 'honey' and always smiled at her and thanked her even when she hadn't done, well, anything. She had also helped chase off some inquisitive, whispering medical students and it had surprised her to see how fierce the kind lady could get when she was angrily scolding the students.

She felt the tape holding the dressings down tear off her skin and hugged her pillow tightly, knowing the ripping off of bandages from the open wounds would hurt. But just like her mother had been last night, the kind nurse's hands were gentle, and she relaxed into the bed, allowing the nurse to do her job.

Nurse Martha tried to be gentle although she could tell the changing of dressings was going to be painful for the young one. Some of the clotted blood had dried and was stuck stubbornly to the bandages. As she peeled the bandages off the raw flesh, she winced, wondering what devils could hurt such a sweet young girl so badly. "I'm so sorry, honey," she whispered, tears swimming in her eyes.

Rachel looked back up and tried to figure out what other pain-inducing procedure Martha was going to do next. She could see nothing and looked quizzically at the nurse.

"What's next?" she asked, wanting to be prepared. It was always easier to tolerate the pain when she could anticipate it, not that the kind nurse had inflicted any pain on her yet. She was really gentle and skilful.

Martha smiled through her teary eyes. "Don't worry, honey, I'm not doing anything else besides changing your dressings. I would tell you first before I do anything, okay? I meant that I'm sorry you got hurt."

"Oh." _That._ "It was my fault," she replied, lowering her head in shame. She really didn't want to discuss her many failings with the kindly nurse.

Martha stared in shock. How could the girl possibly believe that? Even criminals in prison were treated better. Although this would indeed be a fitting punishment for those child abusers, she thought fiercely, as the tears she had been trying so hard to hold back finally escaped and streamed down her cheeks.

Rachel startled when she heard the nurse crying. Shit! What had she said or done? The last thing she had said was that she was hurt because it was her fault. She rolled onto her side, careful not to let the raw wounds that were now unconvered touch the mattress and stain the pristine white mattress covers of her hospital bed. "It _was_ my fault. I was bad and I got punished. I deserved this. Please don't cry." But it was to no avail as the nurse cried even harder.

"I have two children back home in the Philippines. I see them once a year when I fly home. My boy is 17, and my daughter is 12. Looking at you so badly hurt just makes me think of them, that's all." She removed her gloves and tried to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

You're a nurse, Martha! She told herself fiercely. But she was a mother first and it near broke her heart that some parents could be so cruel.

Rachel considered the nurse's words. The nurse was a mother too, she had kids her age, she should know about appropriate punishments, right? She waited for her to dry her tears as she considered her next words carefully.

"Hypothetically speaking, if your children were bad, how would you punish them?" she asked curiously.

"It depends on what they did."

"If they were rude to you?"

Martha could see where this was going. The hypothetical situation clearly wasn't so hypothetical, but if the girl wanted to keep the illusion of her anonymity, who was she to deny her that? She needed to retain some power over what must be a very helpless situation for her and Martha would do anything to make her feel safer or more comfortable. The hesitation in her voice also told her that this was the first time she was discussing this with anyone, and Martha felt honoured at her trust.

"Well, hypothetically speaking, if my little rascals were rude to me, I would probably scold them or ground them."

"What if they were really bad? Like, hypothetically speaking, what if they started a fight at school and got themselves suspended?"

Martha sighed. It was clear the girl had been worrying about this for awhile and wasn't going to let it go. She would rather be the one to clarify her fears than to allow her to continue worrying on her own. Who knew what ridiculous ideas her parents had instilled in her regarding appropriate punishments if she thought this carnage was appropriate discipline for any form of misbehaviour?

"Well, if they behaved very badly and I had to give them a spanking, it'd be with my hand on their bottoms. Nothing more. The idea is to demonstrate my displeasure and disappointment in their actions, not to permanently scar them."

Rachel looked at her disbelievingly.

"Trust me, honey, I may look small but my right hand packs a strong wallop. Last year, when I returned home, I caught my boy smoking and had to take him across my knee for a spanking. He was definitely crying for mercy by the time I was done."

She continued in a softer voice. "But honey, no matter how bad you could have been, nobody deserves to be punished like this. All my boy got out of his insanely idiotic stunt was a sore bottom for a few hours and an embarrassing amount of tears. Cuts and welts that last long enough to get infected like this are definitely _not_ an acceptable form of punishment. No child, no matter how bad, deserves this severe a punishment."

It was hypothetical! Rachel wanted to protest but it was probably useless. She rested her head on her forearms and stared down at the pillow with a sigh, Ms Sharon at CPS had said pretty much the same things too, that her fathers' punishments were overly severe and amounted to child abuse.

"Now lie back down please, honey, Dr Lopez will have my head if I leave your back exposed for too long, letting who knows what bacteria in to infect those cuts."

She put on a new pair of gloves and finished changing the dressings on her back as well as her bottom in silence. Rachel was clearly lost in her own thoughts, and Martha figured she had a lot to think about and let her be. She herself wasn't particularly fond of this topic of conversation either, it was far too depressing. Besides, Rachel needed to discuss these matters with her mother, not her nurse, in order to put her mind properly at ease.

As she drew open the curtains, the nurse on lunch duty entered the room bearing a tray of food. "Lunchtime!" she announced. "Vegan for you, right?" Rachel smiled, Dr Andy had remembered from when he had taken her medical history from her yesterday.

"Thank you, ma'am," she replied, and the nurse left her alone with Martha who was now sitting in the corner, updating her nursing charts.

Rachel stared at the food. Her mother wasn't here, should she eat it without her permission? It did look quite good, as far as hospital food went, that was one benefit of being a vegan – no "mystery meat". But she had already had breakfast a few horus ago, and hadn't yet been punished for yesterday's transgressions. Shelby had said she could call her 'mom' even if she hadn't yet been punished for her misbehaviours but that was because it was true. Rachel doubted the same applied to her right to eat.

Martha caught her staring and patted her hand. "Eat up, honey, you need all the strength you can get if you want to fight the infection and recover quickly. You don't want to be hooked up to those IV antibiotics forever, do you?"

Rachel gave her an uneasy, doubtful look.

She sighed. Honestly, she should have guessed that her fathers had starved her as well, what with her thin, almost skeletal frame. She looked down at the chart she was currently updating – 14 years old. She was smaller than her 12-year-old daughter, and Asians were supposed to have a smaller frame.

"You know what, honey? My son had a _huge_ dinner after his spanking, said he was _starving_. We all joked that it was probably from all that kicking and crying."

Rachel smiled at the image of a 17-year-old crying and kicking over a simple hand spanking but still did not move to touch the food.

"What I mean to say is, _hypothetically speaking_, no matter what you've done, starvation from food is never an appropriate form of punishment either."

Rachel shrugged and stared down at her hands. She didn't want to hear anymore, all these people were saying these things that completely went against everything she had been taught to believe all her life. It was confusing and mind-boggling and thoroughly messing with her head. How had life become so complicated in just 24 hours?

Martha sighed. One step at a time, she told herself.

"I'll come back and check on you later, don't let the food get cold, okay?" She patted Rachel's hand one last time and left, leaving Rachel alone in the room with her thoughts and the smell coming from the food tray she would refuse to touch for the next few hours.

...

"Why did you call us here, Q?" Santana asked as she walked into the choir room with Brittany, both carrying their salads. All the other Glee members were already seated on their chairs, eating their respective lunches.

"Maybe she wants to sing for us?" Brittany suggested.

Santana rolled her eyes.

"I doubt it, Britt, she's not Berry." She raised an eyebrow at Quinn, "If you're going to sing, Q, I'm outta here. What's so urgent it couldn't wait till Monday's practice, we just had Glee yesterday."

"Sit down please, Santana," Quinn said exasperatedly. This was hard enough for her as it is. "Listen, this _is_ about Rachel. I want to apologize to her at practice on Monday and I need your help to do it."

Ten pairs of eyes stared at her in shock.

"I know, I was angry at her yesterday, and told you guys and the rest of the school to slushy her but that wasn't right of me. That's actually what I wanted to apologise for."

"It's just weird, Quinn. What's the big deal with yesterday, she got more than the normal number of slushies yes, but it's not like we've never slushied her before," Finn asked. After all, he was the quarterback but when he joined the Glee club, his teammates had attacked him with paintballs! Those had been so much harder to wash off then slushies, he'd had to throw that shirt away. A little sugary drink was nothing.

"Yeah, and slushies never bother her, she's had so many she's like, immune to them. And she always has an unlimited supply of hideous sweaters to change into, so what's with the big fuss?" Santana joined in. "And since when did you say sorry to anyone anyway, Q, much less ManHands... Ouch!" Santana yelped and rubbed the spot on her biceps where Brittany had just pinched her.

"You're right, Quinn, what you did wasn't nice. A little slushying is fun but you went too far. And name calling is mean too." Brittany said, glaring meaningfully at Santana.

"Excuse me, white boy," Mercedes said to Finn, "I'm well aware that you and your jock friends have been slushying her since the first day she stepped into this school. And not just her, but the rest of us original Glee members as well. And doing it everyday doesn't make it okay, even if we never bring it up. Want to try one in your face now? I've got a dollar in my pocket I'm just dying to spend."

"I… I agree with Br-Brittany, I felt hor…horrible for slushying Rachel, her clothes were so soaked in slush, surely she would have changed into cleaner, dryer clothes if she had any left," Tina stammered, but pressed on. "She… She didn't even get angry, just n-n-nodded at me and kept on walking."

"She may be an annoying diva who talks too much and has absolutely no fashion sense but I agree, I shouldn't have slushied her either. She always helped me to clean up when I got slushied." Kurt joined in. "We may make fun of her once in a while, but none of us has ever stooped so low as to slushy her until yesterday. We've all been slushied, we know what it's like and we would never do it to anyone else."

Matt spoke up. "During morning practice just now, I heard the other guys talking about yesterday's fight. A couple of them were there and they said Dave and Azimio were taunting her and she didn't react. But when they started on her fathers, she slapped them, that's why they beat her up. Apparently, it was pretty bad, she was unconscious by the time Coach Sylvester found her and carried her to the nurse's office. No one's seen her ever since."

"Principal Figgins gave her a one day suspension for starting the fight, that's why she's not in school today." Quinn explained. "And I'm sorry for forcing you guys to choose between slushying Rachel and getting slushied yourselves. You guys didn't have to listen to me but I'm still sorry I made you feel threatened or obliged to obey me, okay?"

"Now back to our original topic of discussion, what should we do on Monday? It's Rachel Berry, it has got to be a song. Any ideas?"

The thought of singing a song of apology to Rachel felt bitter on her tongue but she swallowed her pride. This needed to be done, and maybe at the same time, she could find out what was going on between her and her fathers too. It was just too strange, them being charged with abuse yet Rachel always sung high praises of them and had defended them against the two biggest guys in school, going so far as to fight with them despite the futility. Quinn was not ashamed to say that there was no way in hell she would have done that for either of her parents, and that thought of Rachel's more loving relationship with her fathers made her feel that familiar pang of jealousy once again.

She squashed down the green-eyed monster fiercely, this wasn't the time for that. Rachel having the perfect parents was no reason for Quinn to take them away with her. She needed to figure out what was going on and how to fix it. After that, she could stop feeling sorry for Rachel and go back to hating her.


	10. Conversations, Part 2

OutOfNoWhereHereIAm – Thanks!

Gleek1990 – Sorry, there's not much Quinn here, but her rescue is under way! Trust me, just as I wrote Rachel's rescue immediately after that first chapter, I couldn't continue writing about Quinn if I didn't already have plans for her rescue.

beaner008 – Thanks! You should be happy then, there's a lot of Rachel in this chapter. There's so much that's screwed up with her upbringing, you'll slowly see more of it as she tries to work out her issues.

Filmaddict – Thanks. I think it's more that I'm not strong enough to deal with these situations that I face sometimes and I have to write about them to work through my feelings. I'm glad you like the realism.

BigMammaLlama5 – Thanks! I see where you're coming from and Singapore schools deal with fights the same way too. However, I really despise Principal Figgins and wanted to show how much of an ass he is. He'll be "dealt with".

JAMES-EAI – I'm always amazed at how strongly you feel for my girls. Rachel is already saved, even if she doesn't know it yet, doesn't even know that she needed saving. And I'm glad you've stopped hating Quinn.

BellaDora Soulmates – Thank you. Rachel definitely won't be able to miraculously get better, it's going to be a long and painful road for her. Santana will be involved and your guesses are very close. There'll definitely be some unholy trinity friendship as well but not exclusively so.

Chapter 10

"Hey, I know it's _way_ past lunchtime, and I know she hasn't eaten anything and probably isn't going to but please don't go in and clear her lunch tray. Trust me on this, her mother needs to know – needs to see – that she isn't taking her meals and talk to her about it. She should be back soon anyway," Martha told her colleague.

"I know, you've already told me. I actually meant to go in and wake her up. Look closely at her, she's not just still, her entire body is taut and her hands are clutching tightly at the blanket. Probably a nightmare." She eyed the room doubtfully, reluctant to deal with their newest child abuse patient but unwilling to allow her to remain in her bad dreams either.

"Oh," Martha sighed. _Couldn't that sweet young girl ever catch a break?_ "Good observation, thanks. Why don't you go on ahead? Don't worry, I've got this."

"Okay, thanks a lot. Here, hand me that tray, I'll do your remaining bloods for you," her colleague nodded at her gratefully, cast one last glance at the occupant of Room 44, and walked away.

Martha hurried into the room. Rachel's eyes weren't just closed, they were squeezed shut, tears pooling in the corner of each eye, her brows narrowed together to form a 'V'. Her lower lip was once again wedged tightly between her teeth, something Martha had come to realize Rachel often did.

"Rachel, wake up!" she whispered loudly, shaking her arm. "Wake up, honey, shhh, don't cry, it's just a nightmare, you're in the hospital now."

Rachel shot up in bed into a sitting position. The hospital! Right, that was just a dream, she was alone in the hospital. She rubbed away the tears in her eyes and licked her lips, tasting a slight metallic taste – she must have bitten down too hard again. She opened her eyes and blinked at the light, suddenly becoming aware that she was, in fact, not alone. Nurse Martha was the one who had woken her up, and was currently standing beside her bed, allowing her to wake up on her own terms now that she had been shaken out of her bad dreams.

"Was it your fathers? Were you dreaming about them?"

"No," she replied, rubbing harder to make sure there were no more tears left. "No, I wasn't. I mean, I miss them a lot but it's okay, I'll get to see them again in a few days once they manage to clear the charges with CPS, right?"

Martha doubted she would ever see them again except in a courtroom but she bit her tongue. Again, this was a conversation she needed to have with her mother, or her social worker. She noticed Rachel glancing at the washroom and smiled.

"Do you need to use the facilities? Come, let me help you stopper your IV plug, you must be sick of dragging this stand around everywhere you go," Martha offered. She did so and reached out to help Rachel out of bed.

"Thank you, ma'am, but I can walk just fine on my own." Rachel said politely, patting at the hand currently holding onto her arm, although there was a hint of frustration in her voice. Too many people were doing things for her and treating her like a little kid.

Martha smiled at her stubbornness, it was a good sign that unlike most other abused kids, she still had some spirit left in her. She let go when she was certain Rachel was stable, watching her make her way to the washroom, standing an arm's length away, close enough to catch her if she fell. Her gait looked a little off but Martha couldn't figure out what it was. She thought carefully as she waited outside the washroom in case Rachel ran into any trouble and needed her help. She didn't, and made her way back just as quickly.

Oh! That was it. She walked quickly and normally, as though she wasn't experiencing any weakness or pain, _that _was the difference between her gait and that of the other patients. She had been wondering since last night, when she saw the range of injuries from fresh welts to deep scars, how her teachers and friends could have seen her everyday and let this go on for so long without noticing such severe abuse. This was the answer, she supposed, frowning slightly. Rachel was so adept at hiding her pain, Martha wondered if she even knew she was doing so, and she couldn't help but ask.

"Are you not in any pain? You're walking very well considering the…" she pointed to the bandages covering her back unsure of what to call them. "… wounds."

"Oh. I'm okay, I'm not in any pain, the pain medications Dr Lopez prescribed are amazing! And these really aren't so bad, I've had far worse and still had to go on practising dancing-" Rachel stopped herself mid-sentence. _Shit!_ "I meant, good deportment is important no matter what the circumstances. Otherwise people will think that 2 gay men can't raise a girl well and teach her to behave like a lady. It would reflect badly on my fathers, because they did teach me well. Moreover, good posture is very important in dancing."

"You like to dance, then?" Martha asked, recalling Rachel's concerns last night about whether she could still sing and dance with her bruised ribs. At that time, she had wondered how she could be thinking of such frivolous activities as singing and dancing when she had to have been in so much pain. Now, she thought she understood a little better, but it sickened her to realize that this must have been going for even longer than she thought for her to have developed such a high tolerance of pain. '_I've had worse and still had to go on practising dancing'_, Rachel had said. Was the dancing her parents' idea of some sick kind of punishment too?

"Yup. I take acting classes too, but I love singing the best. Dancing is not so bad if I can do it while singing. I really love singing! When I'm standing on the stage and belting out a song to a full crowd, pouring my heart out to a captivated audience, it's the most amazing feeling! It's like the whole world is mine and I can be anything I want to be, the possibilities are simply endless. It's awesome!" Rachel gushed excitedly, earning a smile from the nurse.

This was the first time Martha had seen her so animated and it was a nice change indeed.

"Well then, if you want Dr Lopez to give you the okay to sing and dance again, or if you even want to be discharged from this hospital, you need to eat more, okay?" Martha chided, as she put Rachel back on the IV drip. "Plus, your antibiotics can be oralised but Dr Lopez will keep you on your IV dextrose _forever_, pumping sugar into your blood if you refuse to eat through your mouth."

Rachel frowned and shook her head. "Dr Lopez said I could get discharged tomorrow, latest Sunday."

"Only if you're recovering adequately," Martha corrected, "and if you want to heal properly, you need the nutrition. But enough about that, dinner will be served in an hour and your mom should be back before that, I believe? Talk to her about this," she encouraged.

"Okay," Rachel agreed. The absence of her mom's permission was the reason she was still not eating anyway, although she was actually feeling kind of hungry again. She couldn't imagine how, though, seeing as she had been lying in bed all day. She sighed, being stuck in bed all day really sucked, she was used to endless practices, schoolwork and chores that a whole day of having nothing to do was making her go crazy. Her brain was running on overdrive, imagining all kinds of stupid scenarios.

_The blows rained down hard and fast and Rachel curled into herself, shielding her face with her arms. She bit down on her lip, trying not to cry out. A hand fisted itself into the collar of her blouse and dragged her up to her feet. She kept her eyes trained down to the floor, partly in submission, partly because she did not want to see the fury in Dad's face, especially when she couldn't even remember what she had done wrong. _

_But the hand was well-manicured, a lady's hand. It was familiar too. Rachel remembered it from yesterday, it had clasped her own smaller hand all night, and she had stared at their intertwined hands until she fell asleep. Now, however, it was rough, violently gouging deep scratches into the skin of her torso when it grabbed her, hauling her up, and flinging her onto the desk. _

_She stretched out her hands to brace herself and prevent her hips from slamming into the edge of the desk, when she heard a familiar whoosh. The sharp sting accompanying it, leaving a line of fire across her shoulder blades. Another one, overlapping the first line, tearing the inflamed skin off her back. She tightened her grip of the edge of the table and bit back a scream. _

She sighed, she must have dreamt that because just before she drifted off to sleep, she had been worrying about what her mother would be like after she got discharged. It was truly dangerous and unnerving to have so much time on her hands to lie on the hospital bed and think. And thinking was useless because there was no way she could know for sure.

So far, Shelby had given her no clue, except for being thoroughly confusing. She recalled the previous night. Mom had gotten angry at her and not spoken to her the entire way back to the motel but when she got into position expecting to be punished, she had climbed into bed with her and helped clean her up instead. After she ran off to the toilet to vomit, she had brought her to the hospital, held her hand all night at the hospital, and stayed vigil by her bedside. Then there was their conversation this morning – Shelby had said she could always call her "Mom" even if she had done something wrong but hadn't yet been punished, but she had not explained what her punishment would be.

She couldn't possibly ask, could she? But she really needed to know. Okay, not really _needed_. Wanted, she wanted to know. Anything would be better than this uncertainty. It was killing her, this not knowing.

Did she like to beat her systematically and properly with her keeping still? What would she use, and would she make her count or forbid her to make any noise? Or did she have an explosive temper like Dad sometimes would get, would she get violent and just beat the crap out of her with punches and kicks and throw her around? Those beatings always scared her, she would sometimes have nightmares after a particularly bad one. But Dad was never drunk or high on drugs, unlike in those domestic violence videos the school made them watch, and after his rage was spent, he would always go back to his normal self, so really, it was Rachel's fault for being stupid and getting him angry in the first place. She couldn't help it sometimes, she just kept making mistakes and screwing up and misbehaving and being an utter disappointment to her fathers.

What would Dad do if he saw her now? He would probably beat her up really badly with her IV stand for causing them so much trouble with the court. She had tried her best to dissuade Nurse Jasmine and Coach Sylvester from calling CPS but she had failed miserably. Just like how she always failed at everything else.

She wondered how strict her mom was going to be. Already, this fighting in school was the worst misbehaviour she had ever committed, so she knew the punishment for that was going to be pretty bad. And to make matters worse, the fighting had been _public_, many of their schoolmates had been watching. McKinley High the way it was, gossip spreading faster than germs, everyone would know by Monday that she had gotten suspended and why. She recalled Shelby saying she was going to drop by the school to see the principal and settle the paperwork, and she supposed she was going to ask Principals Figgins about the fight too, and find out how Rachel had been the one to hit the boys first. Rachel distinctly remembered telling Principal Figgins that yesterday afternoon. The boys' punches must have knocked her stupid, she couldn't believe she had confessed so easily. But Coach Sylvester had been yelling that those barbaric hooligans needed to be arrested and thrown into dungeons and she couldn't let them accept the blame when she had been the one to slap them first.

The guilt ate away at her, she should have just argued back at the boys with words and clever retorts, like her fathers had taught her to, instead of resorting to violence. This was just her first day with her mom, and she was already publicly bringing shame to her.

_I hope you're punished hard_, she told herself fiercely. _You deserve it_.

But what about with the other stuff? Like her performances. Shelby had agreed with the doctor and nurses that she was to obey them and stay off dancing for the next 2-3 weeks, so that would only be an issue later. It was strange, though, Dad had always said that in show business, 'the show must go on' and make her continue rehearsing no matter how bad her injuries were, even that time when she suspected she had cracked a few ribs after Dad threw that chair at her, because breathing had really hurt for weeks. In comparison, it wasn't so bad this time, and Nurse Martha had also confirmed that, saying they were just bruised, not cracked. But in contrast to her father, Shelby, who had actually been in the show business, was actually insisting that she listen to the doctors and stay off of dancing until she was healed, even from these relatively minor injuries.

She sighed. Anyway, would she even get to continue her lessons? Daddy had said Shelby's family didn't support her Broadway dreams, and moving back across states on such short notice must have cost her a fortune, what with air tickets and moving costs and down payments for a house and a car. She also probably lost all her student deposits and the payment she would have gotten for her role in "Spring Awakening". She guessed she didn't really mind the loss of the lessons so much, she had Glee to focus on now. She was happy as long as she could sing.

Mr Schuester's dance moves were very basic and he was all too easily impressed with her vocal abilities but she was learning new things too, like how to participate in a group number, and how to complement another voice in a duet. She was also learning new styles of dancing from some of the other members, like hiphop from Mike and Matt. Considering they had been put together just a few months ago, they had made remarkable progress and done really well at Invitationals. But Sectionals was when the real competition started and it was just a month away.

She hoped she would be able to recover in time to perform. What if she didn't get a solo? Dad always got angry with her if she wasn't the star of any performance, it showed her laziness and lack of motivation, it was a disgrace to her fathers after all the effort they put into training her. And she would be wasting Daddy's time, making him attend such poor performances. Although her fathers weren't the only reason she wanted to get the solos. She loved the attention and praises she got from the audience when she sang on stage, and the praises they would often give to her fathers too, for having raised "such a talented daughter". And solos were what she was used to, what she was best at, she was still learning to adapt to other people's voices in duets and group numbers.

Right now, however, Rachel was slightly more worried about what would happen if she did get a solo. She knew she would probably get at least one, she had the most talent and training in their group, after all, and they were a new and inexperienced club, they would need to showcase their best talents in order to ensure a win, even if it was against deaf kids and juvenile delinquents.

With the restriction on her dancing, she would only have about 2-3 weeks to prepare for it and it was certain to be a subpar performance. And Shelby performed in New York before and was also a vocal instructor, so surely she knew a lot more about the technicalities of performing than Dad did and even if Rachel was at her best, she could probably still point out a million and one things that were wrong with her performance. Even now, with just her singing. Not that Rachel wouldn't appreciate the expert guidance and instruction, but that punishment for 'a million and one' mistakes was going to be really painful. And what if Shelby decided that Rachel was too inept and untalented and would never fulfill her Broadway dreams? What if she deemed it a waste of time to even attend her unprofessional and childish school performances, much less bother to correct her mistakes? What if her mom didn't want to be associated with such incompetence as herself?

For the first time, she started to doubt her own talent and abilities. Surely her mom was _so _much better than her, she would be embarrassed of her ineptitude, what if…

…

She loved being at Santana's.

Her dad wasn't home but that was to be expected, he was Lima's only neurosurgeon, and thus a very busy doctor. He was friendly enough when he was at home, but Santana's mother was the real reason why they always chose Santana's house to sleep over at.

Maribel Lopez was the coolest mom ever. She was a housewife like Quinn's mom, but unlike Judy Fabray, she was always home and always sober. Like most moms, she made sure they finished their homework in the living room before they could hang out at Santana's room but unlike the other moms, she would bake them cookies and brownies, and make delicious homemade iced lemonade for them, to help make their studying more pleasant. She was also really smart, and would clearly and succintly explain difficult problems to them, making them sound so simple. She was especially patient with Brittany, who among the trio, had the most academic problems and often tried to skive off the homework, because she simply didn't understand anything. And when all the homework was done and looked over by Maribel, she would reward them all with pizza and ice-cream and let them stay up as late as they wanted, as long as they kept the noise level down so as not to disturb the neighbours.

Once, in 8th grade, when they were having a mini dance-off in the living room – started by Brittany, of course – they got too boisterous and accidentally broke the Lopezes' expensive new plasma TV. Quinn remembered that day well, the loud crash that had sent Santana's mom running for the living room – her dad was thankfully at work -, the wave of panic that washed over her. Quinn had stood frozen to the spot, heart in her mouth, terrified of the consequences, as Santana sheepishly explained that it was an accident. But Maribel had not gotten angry, had not even shouted at them. She had simply taken out a piece of paper and listed a whole bunch of chores that needed to be done, along with the rates she was willing to pay them to do those chores, and it had all come out nicely to the exact cost of a new television.

After Maribel had made sure the three girls weren't injured from the glass shards of the broken television screen, she sent them off to get started on her extensive chore list. The three girls had spent the entire weekend cleaning the house from the rooftop to the basement, clearing out the garage, washing the car, doing all the gardening and even repainting the garden shed, while Maribel placed an order online for a new television, then lounged on the couch listening to music and drinking her own iced lemonade, occasionally getting up to check on their progress.

By the end of the weekend, when Santana's father came home from work, the new television was installed, the house was spick and span, and no one but Maribel and the three girls knew what had happened. To Quinn's great relief, she hadn't even informed any of the other parents, judging that they had already paid their penance. They were all groaning and whining and completely wiped out, of course, but they had learnt their lesson. It had even been kind of fun. And Maribel had still kept a constant supply of her famous cookies and brownies on the dining table, so they were never short on energy. In fact, they had tasted even better than usual in their exhausted states.

Looking back, they couldn't possibly have done enough chores in 2 days to pay for a brand new television but it had definitely been quite a fitting punishment. They had certainly kept their dancing well away from the television from then on too.

And so the Unholy Trinity always met at Santana's house. And Quinn would admit, but only to herself, to often feeling just a little jealous of her Latina friend, to have such an awesome mother. But she never brought it up, because they didn't do serious conversations like that and if she did bring up the topic of mothers, it would have inevitably led to them asking her about her own mother and she really didn't want to talk about her. Besides, she'd had enough difficulty convincing them that although her house was the largest among the three, it was not a good place for them to sleep over at.

She didn't want to think about her cold and empty house, or her silent mom, or her dad and what he did behind closed doors. Santana had something far better than a large house, she had a home, and Quinn would stay here in this warm and happy place forever if she could.

…

"Hello Rachel, I'm back!" Shelby said as she entered the hospital room and collapsed into the chair beside her bed. "Phew, what a day! How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. How was your day?"

"I met with Sharon at CPS to sign more papers, then got us a house," Shelby replied, beaming. She was actually quite proud of how much she had achieved in a few hours. "It's quite nice, has four rooms. Two of them have a queen-sized bed each, and have the basic furnishings of a bedroom, even an attached washroom, so I was thinking those could be our bedrooms? The other two are empty. One room would be for my office, I'll sound proof it and conduct my vocal lessons there. And the last one could be a guest room, or you could convert it into your own study, what do you think?"

Rachel shrugged. Her mind was still stuck on 'got us a house'. Her mom had _bought_ a house for the two of them?

"Well, you'll have time to decide, for now that's where I'm going to chuck all my luggage boxes until I finish furnishing the house and unpacking. Here, I took some pictures," Shelby said, offering her cellphone to Rachel.

Rachel took the phone and scrolled through the photos. It was quite a nice place too, it must have cost quite a lot. She wondered what her fathers were going to say about this. Why had Shelby done this, surely she wasn't staying with her forever, right? She knew CPS notoriously took a long time to get anything done, but she didn't have to _buy_ a house for them to stay in if she was only going to be with her for a few months.

Shelby noticed the thoughtful and slightly confused look on Rachel's face and took her phone back. "Don't worry about it, honey, I'll try to take you out to see it tomorrow, okay? You can decide then. I know it's quite rushed, but I really wanted a home for you to go to after you got discharged. The motel is no place to be living in. I'm just renting for now, since the owners are away and some friends of theirs are helping them to look after the place in their absence but the owners definitely have the intention to sell it."

"Oh, okay," Rachel nodded, understanding. "Thank you, Mom," she added hesitantly, trying out the word as she recalled their conversation from the morning. Was that okay?

Shelby smiled widely and touched Rachel's arm. Those three magical words were all she needed to regain her energy after such an exhausting day. Sharon had helped a lot with getting the house, of course, but there had been so much she had to do, and it was still going to be a whirlwind of activity to get it ready for Rachel to live in by her discharge on Sunday. The walls were thankfully painted already, and most of the furniture was arriving tomorrow. Her roommate from New York had also started helping her to pack her things and sending the boxes over. Some were arriving tomorrow, most would be arriving on Sunday. It was going to be one crazy weekend.

The same nurse from lunchtime entered the room bearing dinner and Shelby fell silent and still for the first time since she had entered the room. She looked around, suddenly noticing the cold untouched lunch tray on the table that was being replaced with a new tray of dinner food.

The nurse, sensing the change in atmosphere in the room, backed out hastiliy. _Martha had been right after all._

"You didn't eat your lunch?" Shelby asked Rachel. The answer was pretty obvious but she had to confirm it.

Rachel shook her head and looked at her mom. Her previously wide smile had vanished and was slowly being replaced by a frown. _Shit, what had she done wrong now?_

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes, ma-Mom," Rachel replied softly, correcting herself at the last minute. It still felt weird saying it, calling her mom, especially now when Shelby was clearly getting angry.

A sense of déjà vu fell upon both of them. This was oddly reminiscent of what had happened at the motel room just 24 hours ago.

Shelby sighed, she wasn't going to let history repeat itself. The memory of what happened next – her daughter stripping, positioning herself on the bed, gripping the covers and presenting her battered body for Shelby to "punish" – came unbidden in her mind's eye and she squashed it down firmly. That wasn't going to happen again.

The direct approach has thus far worked best with Rachel, she reminded herself. No more misunderstandings and miscommunications, the two of them had obviously been talking at each other and not to each other the whole of last night and that wasn't going to happen again tonight. Nor was she going to stay cowardly silent even though that had worked out quite well since they got to the hospital. Rachel needed her to talk, otherwise she was never going to heal. It was going to be hard but she is Shelby Corcoran, and she has never been one to back down from a fight. Even though this was going to be the fight of her life.

She took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Why didn't you eat your lunch if you're hungry?"

"I wasn't sure if I was allowed," Rachel answered honestly.

"And what made you think you won't be allowed to eat your lunch?" she asked exasperatedly. Of all the replies, she hadn't expected that.

Rachel shrugged.

"Look, the food even has your name on it," she added, pointing to the receipt on the tray. "And last night, I distinctly remember handing you the menu and asking you for your order. So why would you still be unsure if you're allowed to eat?"

"You're angry."

"I am not angry. I'm frustrated at my lack of understanding of the situation, and you have not answered my question."

"You were angry with me yesterday," Rachel clarified. "I didn't know if you were going to use food restriction as a punishment. And even if you weren't, I was feeling a little nauseous and didn't know if I could keep the food down when you erm… physically punished me."

Shelby stared at Rachel, stunned. Those simple statements told so much about what Rachel's childhood must have been like, that she would be afraid of being starved or being beaten until she threw up. Shelby had not even considered those possibilities. Rachel's skeletal frame came to mind, as well as Dr Lopez's advice about setting up appointments with a dietician and a paediatrician to help her improve her nutrition status and hasten her pubertal development, and things finally started falling into place in her mind.

There was so much she needed to tell Rachel and so much she wanted to find out from her but she had no idea where to start. Let's just start with getting her to eat her dinner, she told herself. Her priority had to be restoring Rachel's health first. Trying to understand what she was thinking and then dispelling those warped ideas Rachel's fathers had put in her head would take much longer.

"Firstly, I know you won't believe me now, but Rachel, I will never starve you or hit you, do you understand me?"

Predictably, Rachel stared at her quizzically, understanding the individual words but not understanding what she meant. How else was she going to punish her then?

"Okay, I should have seen that coming but I had to try. We'll talk more about that later. For now, however, I'm clearly not going to hit you now while you're injured and lying on a hospital bed. I'm asking you to eat. I'm _allowing_ you to eat." She spat out the last few words, the distasteful words leaving a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

Rachel looked at the food and back at her mom but made no move to start. Shelby wanted to pull the hair out of her head in frustration.

"I offered you food, and you've already said you're hungry, so please don't tell me again that you don't want to eat. Why aren't you eating already?"

Rachel shifted uneasily in her bed, the angrily given permission to eat sitting uncomfortably in her stomach. Her mom was being all confusing again and her head felt all messed up, like the two scenes, last night and tonight were all mixing into one. The truth was best, she decided.

"You asked me what I would _like_ to eat, you didn't actually say I could eat. And I said I didn't _need_ to eat, not that I didn't want to eat."

"But you said you're hungry, so how can you not need to eat? You _are _hungry, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. I was confessing I'm hungry so you would know it'll be an effective punishment. And it's just one meal, I had breakfast yesterday and again today, I didn't – I don't really need to eat again, not yet."

Shelby's chest tightened and she had to remind herself to keep breathing. She guiltily recalled that Rachel had had to skip dinner last night too, in case she needed surgery. She had forgotten all about that. _Damn it._

"And when would you _need_ to eat?" she choked out.

Rachel shrugged, staring down at her hands. Her disobedient stomach chose that moment to growl in reply to Shelby's question, demanding loudly for food, and Rachel hugged herself around her abdomen, trying to no avail to stop its growling. But the piping hot dinner smelt so good and she was really quite hungry. She looked down at the blanket that had been freed from the twisting of her hands and was lying crumpled on her lap. It looked exactly the same way her stomach felt, all twisted up.

So much for not needing to eat yet. Shelby now probably thought she was a liar as well.

Shelby sighed. Be clear and direct, she reminded herself.

"If I tell you now to eat your dinner, will you?" she asked.

Rachel looked up at Shelby, the denials that she didn't really need to eat yet on the tip of her tongue but the hope was clear in her eyes.

Shelby looked away and removed the plastic wrap covering the food. "Eat now please, Rachel. I want to see you finish all of it." She held out the utensils and smiled when Rachel accepted them and gathered some rice and vegetables onto the spoon.

"Have you had your dinner?" Rachel asked, offering the spoon laden with food to her mother.

"I had a late lunch and I'll get some supper later. This food is all yours, I want to see it all gone, don't even think about pawning some of it off on me, is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am," Rachel replied, chastened.

Shelby stared at her pointedly.

"Sorry! Yes Mom," Rachel corrected, looking up to Shelby who was smiling and didn't look angry. She sighed with relief.

"Thank you."

She redirected her attention to the food and hesitantly raised the first spoonful to her lips. When Shelby did not object and even smiled encouragingly, she quickly polished off the rest of the tray, eating as fast she could while still trying to maintain her table manners.

Shelby felt a stabbing pain in her heart when Rachel thanked her for the food, and watched as Rachel wolfed down the entire plate, unable to tear her eyes away. What discipline must it have taken her daughter to have waited hours to ask her permission to eat when she was clearly starving? Shelby's head understood what Rachel had been saying about punishments and permission but her heart couldn't accept it.

What had she gotten herself into? How could this be her daughter? How could CPS just hand her over like this, how on earth did they expect her to help heal this broken, damaged girl? She remembered her conviction the previous night, the promise she had made while watching her little girl sleep. She had broken her first promise to her daughter and she had no intention of breaking this one as well. Although honestly, winning that Tony Award might be the easier of the two promises.

She couldn't imagine where she was supposed to start to try and help her, when even getting her to eat her dinner had turned into such a battle. Sharon had suggested that her Psychology degree from NYU might help her to understand Rachel better but she was pretty sure that useless piece of paper in no way qualified or prepared her for this mammoth task.

Nothing could have prepared her for this.

Within 5 minutes, all the food was gone and Rachel glanced sheepishly at her mother when she realized just how fast she had been eating. She wiped her mouth with the serviette provided and blushed self-consciously. The warm dinner was delicious and satisfying and she felt like she could clean off another plate.

Shelby smiled at Rachel's clear enjoyment of the food and embarrassment. "Still hungry?" she asked, although the answer was obvious.

"I don't need…" Rachel's now familiar answer began and Shelby cut her off.

"Well, _I_ am now hungry and haven't had my dinner yet, so will you accompany me to the canteen downstairs?"

"Okay," Rachel agreed.

Rachel watched Shelby eat, fiddling with the serviette in her hand. She wanted to ask that question now, but at the same time, didn't dare to. Maybe she should wait until Shelby had finished her food. But there was a lot of it and Shelby was eating _really_ slowly.

"Have some fries, Rachel," Shelby offered, when the silence had gone on for too long. "I couldn't possibly finish all this food on my own." She had actually ordered too much food on purpose, determined to make Rachel eat more, as much as she could. Three meals in two days was definitely insufficient and the doctor had said she would need more nutrition than normal if she wanted to recover fully and get back on track in her development. She was almost 15, they didn't have a lot of time to work with.

Rachel picked up a fry and nibbled at it. She was half-full already and really shouldn't be eating more, and such unhealthy food at that, but the fries looked so good.

"_You could afford to knock off a few more pounds. You're ugly enough as it is, don't need to add being fat against you as well." _

Dad's voice rang in her head and she dropped the half-eaten fry into the serviette guiltily. He just wanted what was best for her after all, and just because she was allowed to eat, it didn't mean she _should_.

She sighed, life used to be so much easier, her fathers just told her what to do and she only had to obey. She had to make sure she continued to obey them even if she wouldn't be living with them for awhile, otherwise she would be in so much trouble when she got home.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Rachel?" Shelby replied. "You don't like fries? They _are_ vegan, right?" she asked, pointing at the serviette.

"No it's not that, I mean, yes I like them and they're vegan. I just, um… can I ask you a question?"

"You already did, but you may ask me another if you wish. You can always ask me anything you want, you don't have to ask for my permission to do that."

"Okay. Thank you." She hesitated for a moment, then pressed on determinedly. "How are you going to punish me?"

Shelby blinked, she hadn't expected such a blunt question about a topic she had been sure Rachel would want to avoid for the bad memories that would inevitably bring up.

"Why do you think I'm going to punish you?"

_So many reasons, where should she start?_ Rachel wondered. She offered the most obvious one. "For one, I was fighting in school and got suspended."

"Yes, I did speak to your principal about that. He says you told him you were the one who started it."

Rachel nodded. No use denying it.

"Why did you do that?"

"They were teasing me, then they insulted my dads, and I lost control of myself and I slapped them."

"And then?"

"Then they hit me back many times and next thing I knew, I was waking up in the nurse's office."

"I see. Are you normally this easily provoked to violence? Your school records seemed pretty clean."

Rachel nodded, her eyes still on the abandoned fry. "I usually ignore them but I was having a bad day and they said some really nasty stuff about my dads."

"Usually? Does it happen often then?"

Rachel shrugged. "Yeah. I mostly just ignore them but I got so mad at what they said, I just lost control of my hands," she confessed. "I'm sorry, you're right, I don't usually fight, this is the first time."

"What exactly did they say that made you so angry?'

"They called my fathers faggots, which I've heard before but then they accused them of being pedophiles and said that's why they adopted me, to erm, have sex with me."

"They didn't, did they? Your fathers?"

"No! Of course they didn't!" Rachel shouted, jumping out of her seat. "You already made me go for that stupid pelvic examination, how many more times must you ask me? They're not sick, my fathers aren't like that, they wouldn't _do_ anything like that to me, how could you possibly think-"

"I'm sorry," Shelby said, trying to placate her. Man, her temper sure could flare up pretty quickly. She stood up and reached over the table to grab one of Rachel's hands that was currently planted on her hips. "Come on, Rachel, I'm sorry, I just wanted to confirm it."

"Okay," Rachel relented, allowing Shelby to direct her back to her seat, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. Of course she knew that. She stared down in embarrassment at having lost her temper _again_. She'd just proven to her mom again that she was easily provoked to anger, just like the other day when she'd slapped those boys. "I'm sorry," she said, speaking downwards to the table and not daring to look up at her mom and see the anger on her face. She supposed this was another way to go about getting her answers, she was sure she would soon find out just how she was going to be punished.

Shelby sighed, what had just happened? She shouldn't have asked that stupid question, she berated herself, but after all the indisputable evidence of the Berrys' emotional and physical neglect and abuse, she could hardly believe it hadn't extended to sexual as well. Maybe it was a good thing they were homosexuals after all.

She studied Rachel's forlorn form and sighed. She was staring at the table again, she tended to do that a lot when she was afraid or when she thought Shelby was angry at her. They had been making such progress, _why_ had she felt the need to spoil it all with that stupid question?

"Rachel, honey, look at me. I'm not mad at you," she reassured.

Rachel looked up obediently and blinked owlishly at her mom. "You're not?"

"I'm not. You should have told your principal the entire story instead of just telling him you started the fight. Because the fight did not start when you slapped them, it started when they started teasing you." She held up her hand when Rachel started to protest. "Whether or not they tease you everyday is irrelevant, they started this fight by teasing you, then insulting your fathers, knowing it would get a response out of you."

Rachel shrugged.

"I've arranged for a meeting with your principal on Monday to discuss this incident. You can tell him the whole story then."

"But-"

"Yes?"

"Karofsky and Adams will _kill _me if I tattle on them."

"It's not tattling, it's called telling the truth. They were the ones who really started the fight, and they overreacted to your slap by beating you up so badly you had a concussion. It's not fair that you got suspended and they didn't."

Rachel shrugged. Life wasn't fair, was it? They were bigger and more popular than her.

"So you and I are going to be meeting the two boys in the principal's office on Monday at 3.30pm, is that clear?"

Rachel nodded. Come Monday, she was going to be _dead_ but disobeying her mom wasn't an option.

"Don't worry, I'll give them a chance to tell their side of the story first. Maybe they'll confess and you won't have to 'tattle'. Whatever it is, your principal should be told the whole truth."

Rachel shrugged again, and Shelby carried on.

"You do understand that I'm not punishing you, right? I'm proud of you for owning up to your part in this fight and not placing the blame solely on those boys even if judging by the result of your encounter, no one would have doubted you. True, you should not have hit the two boys, violence is never the answer, but you were provoked to it and have been sufficiently punished, firstly by being beaten up and secondly by being suspended. Those boys, however, tease you everyday and when you slapped them _once_, they beat you up so badly that they put you in the hospital. They are bullies and their actions cannot go unpunished, who knows what other students they might be bullying as well?"

"Okay," Rachel finally agreed reluctantly witha sigh. It was true, she wasn't the only one the two burly footballers liked to tease and insult. Maybe if Principal Figgins believed her and punished them too, they would lay off on her and the rest of the Glee clubbers as well. It was worth a try, she supposed. Anyway, it wasn't like she could disobey her mom directly, so she might as well think positive, right?

Shelby considered Rachel's hesitance. The fear was clear in her eyes. "Please don't be scared, Rachel. Like I said, the school has already punished you, and I believe you've learnt your lesson. I'm not going to punish you any further."

"Okay…" Rachel recalled Dad's 'lessons' and scoffed internally. A few punches from the two boys barely qualified but she wasn't going to push her luck. One less infraction in her pile of misbehaviours might mean the difference between whether she was going to make it to school on Monday. She recalled her mom's words from earlier, _"I will never starve you or hit you…"_, and squashed them fiercely, determined to forget them. She wasn't going to hope and she wasn't going to hold her mom to that promise, she knew better than that. Shelby just didn't know how bad Rachel could get, and when she found out, the beatings and starvation were sure to start. Rachel would make sure she was on her best behaviour so this gentleness and kindness could go on for as long as possible, but she always ended up doing stupid things that made her fathers mad at her and it would be no different with her mom.

Shelby sensed Rachel's hesitance and could see the internal struggle play out across Rachel's face as she tried to accept her words. After all those cruel punishments from her fathers, shouldn't Rachel be happy, or at least relieved that she wasn't going to be punished further?

"What are you still worrying about, Rachel?"

"What about the other stuff?"

"Other stuff? What stuff?"

"The other stuff you were angry at me about, when we were at CPS. When I called you ma'am even though you had already told me not to because it made you sound old. Then I refused to show you my shoulder and you went really quiet and ignored me until we reached the motel."

Shelby stared at her.

"I was being rude to you. Then I was rude again just now when I stood up and yelled at you when you had just asked me a simple yes/no question."

Shelby sighed. "I'm sorry I got angry at you. I was frustrated and shouldn't have vented on you and yelled at you. It wasn't rude, it was perfectly understandable that you would need to take some time to get used to not calling me 'ma'am'. And as for just now, it's fine, really. You've already answered that question before and I knew it's a touchy topic for you, I'm sorry I brought it up again." She paused for Rachel to say something but was met with silence, so she continued. "And I'm sorry I didn't believe you yesterday either and made you go through that pelvic examination despite your denials."

Rachel blinked at Shelby. Had her mom just _apologized_ to her?

"It's okay, it wasn't that bad," she murmured. She didn't know what else to say.

"Hey, at least you didn't slap me." Shelby added, trying to lighten up the mood. "Those boys got slapped when they asked you that same question, right? I count myself very lucky."

Rachel managed a weak smile. She didn't want to imagine what would happen to her if she dared to raise a hand to her mom. She remembered once when Dad threw a punch at her and she had instinctively dodged, causing him to fall to the ground… _that_ had been a lesson alright, and she hadn't even meant to hurt him. A slap would… she didn't want to think about it, no thank you, she valued her life too much.

Not that she would ever _want_ to hurt her mom on purpose anyway. No number of questions or comments from her mom could ever make her want to hurt her in any way.

"So you're not going to punish me? When we get home, I mean."

"Home, huh?" Shelby commented with a smile. "No, I'm not going to punish you when we get home. You're a teenager so I'm pretty sure you'll give me reason to punish you eventually but no, thus far, you've been remarkably obedient and haven't done anything deserving of punishment."

Rachel smiled in relief and almost disbelief. "Thank you, Mom," she said sincerely.

She didn't really understand her mother's reasons, but was glad there was no punishment looming over her head when she got discharged home. This was the clean slate she had wanted from the first moment she had found out she was going to meet her mom, back in the CPS office. She could hardly believe her mom was handing it to her just like that despite all that she had done wrong, but she vowed in that moment to never do anything to make her mom regret it.

She considered her mother's words carefully, the next question on the tip of her tongue. "How-?" she asked, before clamping her mouth shut. She worried her bottom lip nervously.

Shelby nodded understandingly. "How I'll punish you when you do misbehave? I'll ground you, remove your handphone and television privileges, give you extra chores, make you do lines or write me an essay. I'm sure I'll think of something to fit the crime, or recall something from my own teenage years. But remember what I said earlier? I won't hit you or starve you, those are not appropriate punishments for any kind of misbehaviours."

"But don't other parents also spank their kids and send them to bed without supper? It's the same thing, really, I don't see why everyone's making a big fuss about it…" The words fell out of her mouth before she could hold them back and she silently cursed at herself. _Stop arguing with her before she changes her mind!_ But she really wanted to know. Her fathers had punished her this way all her life and now, suddenly, Ms Sharon and Nurses Jasmine and Martha were all giving her horrified looks and calling it abuse. Even Coach Sylvester, whom Rachel distinctly remembered publicly showing her support for corporal punishment by declaring "Yes we cane" on TV in her first episode of Sue's Corner, had not disagreed with Nurse Jasmine and had even been the one who called CPS in. But the one person whose opinion she wanted to hear most was her mom's.

"Rachel, honey, there's a huge difference between spanking a child and hitting them so hard they bleed and the welts leave scars." She paused, knowing a few words from her probably wouldn't be able to undo all that Rachel had been taught over the years. But Shelby was a teacher, quite a decent one if she could say so herself, and she had learnt from years of teaching that rather than shove information down her students' throats, it was often more productive to ask questions and allow them to figure things out on their own.

"Why do you think we're here? Here in the hospital, I mean. Not here in the canteen having my dinner."

Rachel frowned at the sudden change in direction of the conversation. "You brought me here. I had a concussion from the fight and needed to be monitored overnight."

"Uh huh." Technically that was true, yes. "But Dr Lopez has already said your concussion is stable and will resolve on its own. He's not worried about it anymore and he's even gone home for the night. So why are we still here?"

"I still have an infection. That's why I need this intravenous antibiotics."

"Intrave-what? Oh, the IV. Yes, that's right. And why do you have an infection?"

"Because I didn't take good care of the wounds and cover them up properly and they got infected."

Shelby sighed, was Rachel blaming herself for _that_ too? "The wounds that the school staff saw by accident and immediately called in Child Protective Services."

Rachel nodded in agreement.

"Why do you think they did that?"

"So the state could take temporary custody of me?"

"Clearly. I meant, if you think beatings are normal and all parents do them, why do you think the staff called CPS right away? They didn't even waste any time investigating further."

"Because the authorities hate my fathers for being homosexuals. They just used the wounds as an excuse to take me away from them."

"But the staff aren't 'the authorities', are they? They're just teachers and nurses. They probably don't even know you have two fathers."

Rachel turned that piece of information over in her head. It was true, and she didn't know how to respond to it. Even if Coach knew her, or at least knew _about_ her, Nurse Jasmine had had no idea who she was. But the school nurse had been the one who had told Coach to call CPS, and she couldn't think of a reason why.

Bingo! Shelby smiled and pressed on. "What about Dr Lopez, do you think he knows about your fathers?"

Rachel shrugged.

"Well, even if he does, do you think him booking appointments for you with the dietitian and the developmental paediatrician is in any way a punishment to your fathers for their sexual orientation?"

Rachel shook her head. A developmental paediatrician? Why would she need to see one?

"You're dangerously underweight, Rachel. And I'm not the only one saying this, he showed me your growth charts. You're on the 5th percentile in height and below the 1st in weight. You've been starved to the point of malnutrition, even if you don't know it yourself, because you've been starved all your life and haven't known anything different. Your pubertal development is really delayed, and while a BMI of 16 might be cautiously acceptable if you've just had a growth spurt, you clearly have not had yours yet."

"But Dad says I'm fat and I need to eat less and be skinny if I want to perform better and get chosen for roles."

"You are not fat!" Shelby took a deep breath to calm her anger, they were progressing so well, it wouldn't do to get angry now. "Who do you think knows more about performing, him or me? You need to eat more in order to build up your strength so you can perform more complex moves and also so your lungs can build more power to project your voice better. Plus you're at the age where you need to eat more than you burn, because your body needs the extra energy to grow and develop into a woman's body."

"Oh."

"And I want you to forget everything your Dad taught you. In fact, I don't want you to see either of your fathers again."

"But!"

"At least until this whole thing is over. Sharon explained to you, didn't she, that you're not to have any contact with them while the legal proceedings are under way."

"Yes…"

"Well, there you go. And even if you can't forget what they taught you, at least put it aside and keep an open mind. Hear me out as well, and listen to the doctors you'll be having appointments with. You're an intelligent girl, weigh everything you hear logically and decide for yourself what's right."

Rachel nodded. This was a new concept for her. Weren't kids supposed to listen to their parents and accept whatever they were taught? But she wasn't such a kid anymore, and it was hard to listen and accept everything when everyone was saying different things. It made sense, she supposed, to try to think things through for herself.

"And you can always come to me if you're confused and want to discuss anything, okay?" she reassured. "Any topic at all, I promise to listen to you and not force you to simply accept everything I say."


	11. It was a dark and stormy night

beaner008 – Thanks. Yes, she does indeed but my focus will soon be turning to Quinn soon since she's settling down 'nicely' with Shelby.

Gleek1990 – Thank you! Shelby is great, isn't she? I don't think there's a textbook answer of the right way to handle this, and everything has happened so suddenly for her but I think she's doing very well, even if she doesn't know it herself.

BellaDora Soulmates – Thanks for the cake! Rae is making progress. School on Monday should be Chapter 13, I believe. And thank you too, for thinking this is the "best written Faberry fiction [you] have ever read". There are plenty of good ones out there, I've Favourite-d quite a few, maybe you'll change your mind after you read them :P

Dreamsilver – Thank you for helping me to point out my errors. Please continue to do so, I really appreciate it! To answer your question, why does it have to be one or the other? It is going to be [has been] about their abuse and how they get out of it, but also about how they heal from it, grow up, and make new friends along the way. As for Faberry, there'll be friendship but no romance. It's embarrassing but I have no idea how to write romance, haha. As for it getting draggy, I couldn't agree with you more. What started out as a 10-chapter plotline to rescue both girls and have some other stuff happen as well, has turned into a 21 chapter plan for the same plotline. I've tried to lengthen my chapters but it's useless, I can't help where my muse takes me. Sorry about that. I know 4 days in 11 chapters is super long but most of my characterization is getting quite established, so the days will start passing quicker, I promise! The plot will start moving very soon.  
And I laugh at your comment that you're impatient. I used the same word to describe both Sue and Shelby, lol. In fact, both of them said that of themselves.

adilamgp – Thanks for thinking my updates are fast. And I'm thoroughly flattered that you read my chapters so many times even though they haven't changed. I just edited Chapters 1 to 10, so if you read them again, you'll be able to spot the differences. And since you read my chapters so often, I'm sure you spot many of my errors. Please don't be shy to point them out to me, I'll appreciate it a lot!

JAMES-EAI – Shelby is a great mom indeed. More of her in this chapter!

**A/N. I've just edited all 10 previous chapters, found a lot of mistakes and I apologise[x10] for all my horrible English. I think I'll be doing this language check every 10 chapters, since I often get so caught up in telling the story that I forget to check my English. The last chapter that was not looked over when I published it has also been checked, and been most thoroughly edited, so you might want to read the newer version again, although the content is roughly still the same.  
Please feel free to point out any and all errors by reviewing or PM-ing me. I'll make the edits ASAP. (No funny Story Alerts this time, right?) I'll appreciate your help very much, and give you cake as well! (which I realise tends to be a thing on , although I'm not really a pastries person and much prefer BBQ flavoured potato chips, haha.)  
If my English is too bad and I need a Beta, please let me know, unless anyone is volunteering already? I scored decently enough in my English in my Singaporean exam papers but America's standards might be different, I don't know. I may reveal my SAT 1 score as Rachel's later, haha.  
**

**I also have a question about the US: Is it true that CPS can't sue Rachel's fathers if she doesn't cooperate? Are pictures and a doctor's report sufficient to arrest them? I mean, it doesn't exactly tell who did it, right?**

**Here's a new chapter as a reward for your tolerance and as an apology for all those mistakes! It's really short and technically it's 'Conversations III' since it's still the same day/night (I know. Sigh. I'm sorry!) but I wanted to get this A/N out there as well. Also, I have to start on a massive report due next week and I simply cannot think clearly about Medicine with all these emotions messing with my head, so you might have to wait till the weekend for my next update. Sorry about that!**

Chapter 11 – It was a dark and stormy night

The doorbell rang and Santana reluctantly dragged herself off the couch, out of Brittany's warm cuddle, to answer the door. Who could it be at this time of the night?

She didn't notice the way Quinn was staring ever so often at her two best friends snuggling into each other.

"Papi, you're home!" she exclaimed. "Why did you ring the doorbell, don't you have your own set of keys?"

"Sorry, Tana, I left them in my office," her father apologized tiredly as he stepped in through the door.

Santana studied her father. He looked more exhausted than she had seen him in a long while, and he wasn't a stranger to such 36 hour shifts. Something was wrong. "Papi, are you okay? Did something happen at the hospital?"

"Oh mija, I just had a rough day at work, that's all." He kissed the top of her forehead and drew her closer to him.

Santana wrapped her arms around her father's waist. "What's wrong? You didn't come home at all last night… Was it a patient that kept you at the hospital?"

"Si, mija. It was heartbreaking."

Santana lifted her head from her father's shoulder and startled. "Papi! You're crying."

Her father was the strongest person she knew, he never cried. Not even when 9/11 happened, he just packed his luggage and headed straight for New York to help with the rescue work. What happened? she wondered, fearing the worst. She reached up to wipe the tears from her father's sad eyes.

"I'm fine, mi hija," he reassured, capturing her hand and bringing it to his heart. "It's just… she's your age, a year younger than you, actually. And I thought about you the entire day and what if it had happened to you instead. I couldn't bear it."

"Oh. A freshman? Does she go to McKinley too?"

"I didn't ask. But I wish she was in your year, I wish you knew her, that you girls were friends and you had brought her home before. She hid her pain so, so well but a trained eye would have spotted the tell-tale signs right away and she could have gotten the help she needed much sooner. It was horrible." He paused, there was so much more he wanted to say but Rachel's story was not his to tell, he had said too much as it was. Besides, he didn't want to burden his daughter with such stories, wanted to keep her innocent of the evils in this world for as long as he could.

Santana nodded in understanding and did not press further. She knew as a doctor, her father valued patient confidentiality and could not say more about this patient, whoever she was. So she wrapped her arms around her Papi's waist and leaned her head against his broad chest, silently lending him her strength.

"I love you, mija, you know that right? I would never let anything bad happen to you." _And I would never, ever hurt you._

"Of course I know that, Papi. I love you too."

He gave her one last squeeze and released her from his tight grip. "Mami said your friends are sleeping over? Go, be with them, have some fun."

She looked back at him doubtfully and he smiled reassuringly at her, even though the smile did not quite reach his eyes. Nodding in understanding, she kissed him good night and walked away.

But as Dr Lopez watched his daughter run back to her laughing friends sprawled on the couch, yelling at the taller blonde to not finish all the popcorn, he couldn't help compare his happy, healthy teenage daughter to the stiff, frightened child that would haunt his dreams tonight.

He headed up the stairs to check on Santino, his 12-year-old son, and ended up spending the next hour sitting by his bed, watching over his sleeping form, unwilling to fall asleep just yet.

Maribel watched them quietly from the hallway, he would talk to her when he was ready.

…

Again, just like the previous night, in the cover of darkness with no one watching, she allowed herself to feel all the emotions that she had been holding back all day. The sense of accomplishment she had felt from her productive day, only to return to the hospital to find out that her daughter had starved herself for hours waiting for her _permission_ to eat. Then those long emotionally draining conversations, the hunger with which Rachel had wolfed down her dinner, the fear in her eyes after she had yelled at Shelby for something that had entirely been Shelby's own fault, the look of part hope, part disbelief when Shelby had reassured her that no, she wasn't going to punish her when she was discharged home.

Home. Rachel had called it home. A newly bought, sparsely furnished house that Rachel had never even set foot on and had only just seen a few pictures of. It was just like how Rachel had taken to calling her mom right away, immediately after Shelby had assured her that yes, she was allowed to and didn't have to earn that 'right'.

It was Shelby who should have had to earn the privilege of being called her mom, to prove herself worthy of that honour, after having been absent from her life for the last 15 years, abandoning her daughter to a nightmare no child should have to live through for even a day. How could Rachel, having grown up in such a hateful and brutal house, still have such great capacity to love and accept the mother who had failed her so badly?

To make things worse, she had been nothing but horribly inept with Rachel these past 2 days. She should have figured out what Rachel meant when she had said she didn't need to eat, should have dropped by this afternoon to make sure Rachel had taken her lunch, instead of rushing around all day. She _knew_ Rachel had been starved by her fathers, the doctor had said as much and it was written all over her painfully thin body. She should have at least called the hospital to check on Rachel, should have done more to make sure Rachel received the adequate nutrition that she was so desperately in need of.

And she should also have remembered how Rachel had expected to be punished back in the motel, should have put her fears to rest earlier. The look of fear and apprehension on her face when she asked Shelby that question... What terrible punishments had Rachel been dreaming up for herself to have been so terrified? What courage must it have taken her to ask her that dreadful question?

And then there was the horrible pelvic examination she had forced Rachel to go through.

_"Dr Lopez would like to ask for your permission to conduct a pelvic examination on you."_

_"What? No! I'm still a virgin, my fathers did nothing of that sort to me, please…"_

_"Rachel, you would understand if he doesn't really believe you. You said they didn't physically abuse you either, but clearly they did. It's important that we know, honey, so the doctors can treat you accordingly and run the necessary tests._

_"There's no need, please."_

_"Rachel…" Shelby said warningly, and then there was a long pause in which no one said anything._

_"Do _you_ believe me?" Rachel eventually asked._

_"No. I'm sorry but no I don't. Please agree to it, Rachel, for my peace of mind if nothing else."_

_Another long pause._

_"Okay," Rachel finally agreed._

She thought she'd asked, not forced, Rachel to agree to it but she should have remembered how the two were one and the same to the obedient child. She should have remembered Rachel's immediate compliance to her request for her to take off her clothes without so much as a "Why?" or a "Please don't", even though she had thought she was going to get beaten. She hadn't said a word or cried a tear, well-trained to unquestioningly obey every request made of her. Shelby recalled her reluctant agreement to the pelvic examination and wondered what punishment Rachel had feared she would have gotten from Shelby had she dared to refuse. It made her feel sick in the stomach to even think about it.

And it had turned out she hadn't even needed the pelvic examination. Damn it, she should have trusted Rachel and said no to the doctors. Moms were supposed to be selfless, putting their children first but she never did that for Rachel, from prioritizing her dreams without sparing a thought for Rachel's childhood, to putting her own desire for reassurance that Rachel had not been sexually abused above Rachel's obvious discomfort with the pelvic examination, compounded by her still being a virgin. She wasn't fit to be her mom. And then she had went and lost control of her emotions when she heard the negative result, sobbing with relief into her hands, when she should have been comforting her daughter and apologizing for her mistrust, begging for her forgiveness.

"…I'm sorry I don't know how to do this, how to be the mom that you need. I'm sorry I keep getting everything wrong. Oh God, I'm sorry I'm such a horrible mother," she whispered to the sleeping Rachel.

"Please don't," Rachel finally replied, dropping the pretense of sleep, unable to listen to her mother's self-loathing rants any longer. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, you don't have to do anything at all. You're great, you've been nothing but kind to me, please. I'm sorry I'm so hard to look after, I'm sorry I've been so much trouble but I'm trying my best and I'll do better, I promise."

"You're awake," Shelby exclaimed softly, looking up. Rachel was surprised to see the tears coursing down her mother's cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Rachel," Shelby sobbed, wrapping her arms around Rachel's neck and crying into her chest. "I'm so, so sorry." There was so much she wanted to say, her heart was so full of pain and regret it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, but her mouth simply could not find the right words. Words simply weren't enough to describe the emotions that she felt right now, feelings she could no longer hold back now that she had opened the dam gates and released the flood of emotions.

"Please don't cry, Mommy," Rachel pleaded, raising her hand to her mother's cheeks, interrupting the stream of tears with her thumb. More tears just flowed out, streaming over her thumb. She had never seen anyone cry like this before. What was going on? Why was her mom crying? Was she saying goodbye?

Shelby's heart broke at the tenderness her daughter was showing to her. How could she go from thinking she was going to beat her and starve her one minute to wiping away her tears the next? Why didn't she hate her or get angry with her, where did Rachel's love for her come from? She certainly had done nothing to deserve it, abandoning her the minute she was delivered, taking the money and selfishly pursuing her own dreams without any regard for her daughter's well-being.

"I'm sorry I'm not strong enough for this, Rachel, not strong enough or selfless enough to be a good mother to you. I keep failing you, I should never have left, I'm so sorry."

_She should never have left?_ Her mom's words confirmed her suspicions. Shelby thought she shouldn't have left New York, she'd come all the way here and done so much for nothing, she'd realised that Rachel was nothing but a nuisance and a disappointment. That's why Shelby didn't even bother to punish her, she was a hopeless case and her mom was leaving her behind and returning to New York.

"No!" Rachel begged. "Please don't go, I need you. Please don't leave me. Stay one more day, give me another chance, please..."

Who was she kidding, Shelby should leave now while she still could, while Rachel was still in the hospital and under the care of the state. It only made sense. But Rachel didn't want her to, didn't want to lose the only parent she had left, and useless though it might be, she still had to try, even if just to keep her mom with her for a few more hours, to give her a chance to prove she was worth staying for.

"Please," she pleaded desperately. "This isn't me, I don't normally get into fights and yell at my parents and lie in bed all day doing nothing. I can be useful, really I can. I'll earn my keep, I'll do all the housework. I don't yet know how to cook, but I'll learn to cook anything you want to eat. I'll stay in my room and keep out of your way, you don't even have to give me a room if you don't want to, you wouldn't even know I'm there. I'll get a job so I can pay you rent, I'll stay out of the house so I don't disturb your lessons, your students won't even know I live with you. And I'll get all the best grades and all the solos, I'll make you proud of me, or at least, not ashamed to call me your daughter. I'll practise everyday and become really good and fulfill your Broadway dreams, I know it's not the same as you getting on Broadway yourself, but I promise to try my best and win a Tony and dedicate it to you..."

Shelby couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Stop, Rachel, please stop," she interrupted, finding her voice at last.

"I meant that I shouldn't have left you when you were born, shouldn't have left you with your fathers in Lima. And even after I left, I should have returned to check up on you, made sure you were being well taken care of, contract be damned. I should have left New York years ago when I realized I was never going to make it on Broadway. I'm here to stay now, and I don't regret it. I'll never regret leaving New York, because I came here and got to meet you. And I'm never leaving you, ever, no matter what you do. You don't have to do any of those things, Rachel, you're my daughter and there's no such thing as you earning your keep, I'll provide you with everything you need, I'm your mom and that's my job."

"I know you'll try your best, Rachel, you try so hard - too hard. Helping me carry my luggage yesterday despite the terrible pain it must have caused you on your injured shoulder, denying yourself lunch today because you weren't sure if you were allowed to eat. You don't have to try so hard, Rachel, I love you just the way you are right now, without you having to do _anything_, so please never hurt yourself or starve yourself for my sake again."

"Please allow me to take care of you, not the other way round, you don't know how much it hurts me to hear you say these things. You're my daughter, not my servant, not my tenant, and you're certainly not responsible for my own broken dreams. You're my daughter but you're also your own person, so just be yourself Rachel, that's all I'll ever ask of you. If you want to go to Broadway, I'll do everything I can to help you get there, but only if it's _your_ dream, not because it's mine."

"Really? You're not leaving me?" Rachel asked in a small voice, stopping Shelby in the middle of her broken rant.

"Really. I'm sorry I left you before, and I promise you, I won't ever leave you again, no matter what you do, no matter what happens."

"But what about when I go back to my dads? Won't you return to New York then?"

"No. Like I said, I won't leave you, not even if you return to your fathers." _I doubt you will ever be returned to those bastards, though, not if I have anything to say about it. _"Actually, especially if by some chance, you're returned to your fathers," she added darkly.

Rachel only heard her mom promise once again that she would never leave her. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret it, I promise," she exclaimed, launching herself into her mother's arms.

Speaking more softly, she added, "I love you, Mommy. I'm sorry for everything. Please don't cry, you have nothing to be sorry for. You're the best Mom ever and I love you so much."

Shelby's chest felt so constricted she could barely breathe, so she let Rachel have the last word. Or maybe it was just how tightly Rachel was holding her, how tightly they were both holding each other, neither wanting to ever let go.


	12. Stained Glass Masquerade

Darkwolf109 - Thank you. No, it won't be a Faberry romance, just Faberry friendship. You're right, they would understand each other well and because of that they will become friends, even close friends.

anon - Thank you, that'll be helpful to me later on.

Onmyown29 - Thank you, I hope Quinn's emotions work out okay too, I'm having a lot more problems writing her.

mooncheese1331 - That's horrible, but at least they got punished. I think it's terrible that Figgins does nothing about the slushying. Brrrr.

xOrax - Thanks for your many praises. Any advice on how I can improve?

beaner008 - Actually, I wrote that particular scene already - Santana is such fun to write! As for Rachel's speech, Chapter 11 was never intended to be a chapter but one day on the train (aka subway?), I was thinking about her and got emotional and soon enough I was typing away at my iPad and actually crying (that earned me some stares)

Gleek1990 - Thanks! Yep, that's the intention. Some baby steps, some bigger steps, every tiny step a small miracle (:

beverlie4055 - Thanks! Hope you like this one too.

Dreamsilver - Oh? That's new to me. So who's the "relevant authorities" that sues them. And thanks for complimenting my English, it's not that good but thank you anyway. I wanted to show Shelby as a real person, she's a very insecure person in the show and I wanted to keep that, she's a much better and stronger person, of course, but still flawed and not Superwoman. Or Supermom.

MaJorReader619 - Haha, no Dr Lopez is way more professional than that, unlike ahem, Mr Schuester (telling Quinn about Rachel and CPS). Doctors take patient confidentiality very seriously, especially when it comes to sensitive cases like NAI where children are involved. Also, I'm curious as to who you think was cute? Santana or Rachel?

Temperance Isaack – I love that performance! Too bad you're right, its mood is the complete opposite of my story's. Smile (Charlie Chaplin) is the song that more often than not is playing in my head when I write this fic. Thanks for the "A", hope you enjoy this chapter too.

Anon – Thanks! I'll try to take note of all these and keep the fic as realistic as possible.

AlessanaVargas – Thank you! I'm glad my characters have managed to affect you so deeply and emotionally.

Gardenia2 – Does that mean you cried reading the story? ^^ Rachel does deserve to be happy now, but unfortunately there'll be hiccups along the way as they both try to adjust to this new life.

**A/N. How ironic, just as my Rachel is getting discharged from the hospital, my (real-life) Granny was admitted. There's my reason for the late update. **

**I've decided that to make the plot move along slightly more quickly but at the same time satisfy my desire to write certain days in painstaking detail, I'll be skipping over some less significant days and leave their events to your imagination. I've done this in this chapter, thus making it the first time I finished a day in one chapter (or two days, if you count the one I skipped). It feels a little rough but I hope it's okay. Please leave your criticisms and comments so I can improve!**

**Also do note that this chapter does discuss issues of religion and its hypocrisy, which might be sensitive for some. It is not my intention to diss Christianity or religion in general and I'm sorry if this offends you. The title of this chapter is actually from the song "Stained Glass Masquerade" by Casting Crowns, which inspired some ideas in this chapter. I'm a Christian myself, but it's just that this stuff happens, and I wanted to put it out there.  
**

**By the way, do any of you have any ideas of "I'm sorry" songs that are _not_ about lovers? I have one in mind, but it's not a very 'Quinn' song, so I'm still looking. Any ideas are welcome, thanks!  
**

**Warning: Incest  
**

Chapter 12. Stained Glass Masquerade

Quinn's handphone alarm rang at 7am, and she hurriedly turned it off, not wanting to wake her friends up as well. They'd all had a late night, watching Gossip Girl reruns and commenting loudly on their fashion and acting. She looked over at her two best friends to check that they were still sleeping and realized they were once again snuggled together on the other half of Santana's king-sized bed. 'Why am I not surprised?', she wondered out loud to herself. The sleepover had been fun as always, but with every little intimate gesture the other two girls shared, she was beginning to feel increasingly like a third wheel.

She checked her phone again – 7.10am. She knew she had to get up and wash up soon if she wanted to be ready and home by 8. Her father was not tolerant of tardiness, especially not on Sundays. Even though Sunday service started at 9, her father always made sure the entire family was present half and hour early, supposedly to help with ushering. Mostly, he just wanted to show up the other members and show off his "perfect" family, especially his "perfect little angel". Quinn scoffed, her father only ever complimented her and boasted about her achievements when he was trying to impress others. When they were alone or at home, all he ever had to say to her were scornful remarks and belittling insults.

…

"Make sure you keep the dressings clean and dry. Bring her back here for a change if it gets saturated with blood or other fluids. It shouldn't happen, the cuts are all healing quite nicely. Unless she exerts herself too much, and opens them back up," Martha added, giving Rachel a pointed look. "That means you lie in bed and _rest_. No singing and dancing, no moving around unnecessarily."

Martha turned back to Shelby. "She can't shower just yet, so she'll need your help wiping her down. She needs to come in to have her dressings changed every 2 days. Today is Sunday and I just changed them, so come back on Tuesday and Thursday. By Saturday, most of the cuts and welts should be healed well enough. If that's the case, I'll change them to some smaller waterproof dressings for the more serious infected cuts, that should allow her to shower then. The water shouldn't sting too badly if the cuts are all closed, but I'll show you how to wrap them up in plastic if it's too painful. The bruises will stay longer and fade off in a couple of weeks. Once the dressings come off, the doctors will prescribe you some ointment to apply on them. Is that okay?"

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise. She couldn't shower? What was she going to do when she got her usual morning slushy facials? And even if she didn't shower, the slushies were still going to soak the bandages. She recalled the gooey clumps of linen she had peeled off her skin on Thursday after the dozens of slushies had removed the stickiness of the tape that was holding the bandages against her skin. How was she going to hide from the slushies for a week? She might be able to avoid them for a day, but certainly not one entire week.

She had to try, she supposed. If there was one thing she had learnt about her Mom these past two days, it was that she always agreed with everything the doctors and nurses said and expected her to obey their instructions because it was "for her own good". She had almost gotten angry at her yesterday for going to the washroom on her own without asking for a nurse's help. What if she had fallen?

Rachel sighed and nodded obediently to Nurse Martha. At first, it had been quite nice to feel so cared for and well taken care of but now it was starting to get on her nerves, being treated like a useless little kid, and she was really glad to finally be discharged. Even with all these near impossible instructions and restrictions she had to follow. Mom expected so little of her that if this – obeying the doctors' orders – was all she asked of her, she would try her best to obey her. It couldn't be _that_ difficult to lie in bed for one more day, right? At least she would be able to go to school tomorrow.

Martha left the room after showing Shelby how to apply some of the ointments, and Rachel turned to her mom.

"Later, can we drop by my school before going home? I need to get some books from my locker."

"Why? It's Sunday. Do you need them for your homework?"

"No, I've already completed my homework yesterday, while you were out."

"Oh wow, that's fast. Did you manage to get any rest at all? Why are you in such a hurry to get more books then, do you have a test on Monday?"

"No, but there's one the following week," Rachel guiltily remembered the many hours she had wasted in the hospital. While her mom was busy getting a car and moving into their new house, she had spent at least 3 hours taking a nap when she should have been doing something productive like studying or work on her AP Calculus after she had finished her homework. "If I'm going to be in bed all day, I need my books to study."

Shelby smiled at her daughter's diligence and shook her head. "You know the nurse meant that you should be sleeping, right?" She remembered when as a child, she had often exaggerated the severity of a simple flu to excuse herself from homework and chores. That's what most children did, wasn't it?

"But I've slept so much already, I couldn't possibly sleep anymore. I need something else to occupy my time, please, mom?"

"Alright," Shelby relented. She would have to get over this soon, otherwise Rachel would soon catch on that she only needed to call her 'mom' to get her to give in to any and every thing she wanted.

…

"Good morning, Reverend Jones," Quinn greeted politely as she entered the empty church hall. She was early as usual, so it was not unexpected that no one else had arrived yet. "My father is still outside, speaking to Pastor Thomas. He asked me to come in first to see if you needed help with the set up."

"Hello, Quinn," the reverend replied with a smile. Unlike most of the other teenagers in his congregation, Quinn was always early for services, well-dressed in gender and age appropriate clothes. She was also well-mannered, volunteering her help for anything that needed to be done. In all, quite unlike any of the other teenagers who arrived late in 'hip' or sexy clothes and were more interested in checking Facebook on their iPhones than listening to his carefully prepared sermon.

"Everything's more or less ready, I just need some help tidying up the chairs and giving out the bulletins as usual. They're over there on the piano."

"Sure," Quinn replied, and moved to comply. The reverend was a good friend of her father's, and anything she said would eventually reach his ears, so the less she said the better. He had always been kind to her, and she wondered what he would think if he knew what went on at home. Hopefully, she never had to find out.

Russell walked in at that moment, greeting the reverend as well. As he passed Quinn, he grabbed by the arm and pulled her to the side. "Better mind your manners," he ground out, although he kept his voice down. "You address the reverend by 'yes, sir', and not with a flippant 'sure' as if you're talking to your friends."

He increased the strength of his grip on Quinn's arm and she winced. It _hurt_. "Yes, father, yes, sir," she replied, nodding frantically in response.

Russell relinquished Quinn's arm and walked away as though the short ten-second exchange had not just happened. Quinn resisted the urge to rub at her arm. She would have to check on it in the washroom later, hopefully it was just red and not bruised. Otherwise, she might have to wear her long-sleeved Cheerios uniform tomorrow.

"Everything okay?" Reverend Jones asked, slightly concerned.

"Everything's fine, just reminding Quinn what time to be home later. You know how teenagers are."

Reverend Jones chuckled, "I most certainly do. But I'm sure Quinn isn't like that, she's the most delightful teenager I've ever met."

Russell let out a hearty laugh that sent shivers down Quinn's spine. "Oh, you don't know the half of it. I'm definitely a lucky man."

Quinn finished arranging the chairs and stood primly at the church doors as she handed out the bulletins to everyone who entered. Russell stood a short distance away from her, greeting and shaking hands with select church members, those he deemed worthy of his attention, either long-term church goers, or men with great wealth and power like himself. And Judy stood behind Russell, dressed to the nines, big fake smile plastered on her face, the perfect wife and mother. The perfect Christian family.

…

Rachel tapped out a tune as she sat at the edge of the bed and waited for her mother who was standing at the nurse's counter signing her discharge papers. Sitting on her bum still hurt her a fair bit. it was much less than before, but she was also thoroughly sick of lying in bed. She had tried to wait standing up but the nursing student, Jolene, watching her (as if she needed to be watched!) had immediately run over with a wheelchair, asking her where she wanted to go.

Ugh! Seriously? Come on, she wasn't a child, nor was she an invalid! She wasn't even ill or anything, she was being discharged, not admitted. But Jolene had started quoting hospital policy at her and so she had reluctantly sat back down on the bed.

Shelby turned to wave her over and Rachel hurriedly stood to gather her things and go to where her mom was. But the sharp-eyed nursing student predictably rushed over pushing the wheelchair again, and blocked her path to the door, so she could not exit the room. Rachel wrinkled her nose in annoyance and sighed, maybe words of persuasion would work better than trying to run away.

"I am perfectly capable of walking on my own," she insisted and tried to move the wheelchair away, squeezing herself between the wall and the wheelchair in her attempt to get to the door.

"Please sit down, you'll be more comfortable that way. I'm supposed to be looking after you…"

"Ugh!" Rachel exclaimed in annoyance as Jolene once again moved the wheelchair to block her path. "More comfortable? I'd much rather walk, thank you very much. _You_ try sitting down on infected welts and cuts and tell me that's more comfortable!"

Crap! Her facial expression turned into shock as she realized what she had just said but it was too late to take back the words. Although her 'punishments' were a topic she had never discussed with anyone before, the past two days of discussing the severity of infection in the various cuts, and being taught how to care for her dressings properly had gotten her comfortable with discussing the topic – clearly, too comfortable. Damn her runaway mouth.

Jolene stared at her, shocked, as her hands fell slackly from the handles of the wheelchair, allowing Rachel to – at last – push it away and reach the door. As Rachel's hand reached out for the door handle, she paused, feeling guilty for what she had just said to get her way.

With a sigh, she turned around. "Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. You were just trying to do your job and I shouldn't have been so rude to you. I'll sit if you really want me to, but I'd much rather walk, please."

Jolene waved her out the door with a mumbled "I'm sorry".

"It's okay, thank you," Rachel replied sincerely and ran towards her mom, pulling her roller bag behind her.

"Don't run, Rachel," Shelby chided.

Rachel slowed to a walk, chastened, although the smile on her mom's face told her she wasn't angry. A grin broke out on her own younger face, matching the one on her mom's.

Home at last! She was going home with her mom, she thought excitedly. Not even the shock at her own previous indiscretion with the nursing student or her mom's handling of her with kid gloves could take away the joyful singing of her heart.

…

How ironic, Quinn thought, as she moved between the aisles to push the chairs back in place. Reverend Jones's sermon had been on Colossians 3:1-5, with the focus on the last verse, "Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry."

"Thank you, Quinn," Reverend's voice came from behind, startling her a little. "You don't have to stay and help out, you know. Go be with your friends. As you teenagers would say, go 'hang out'." The last two words were said with attempted slang and 'rock and roll' hands, causing Quinn to crack a slight smile. The elderly reverend was always trying so hard to 'connect' with the teenagers in church, not realizing that his poor, almost silly, attempts at being cool were imitated and mocked behind his back. He really did try too hard.

"I don't mind," Quinn replied. "Father will always stay back and counsel some of the younger men, discussing the sermon topic with them, how they should apply it to real life. I've got else nothing to do anyway."

A sermon on sexual purity, the first half had been targeted at singles, to keep sex for after marriage and the second half at married couples, to stay faithful to one another. She wondered what her father's opinion on both had been, and what hypocritical, self-glorifying anecdotes of his life he was sharing.

"Ah yes. Your father is indeed a good Christian man, someone who truly leads by example and is a credit to this church and our community of believers. You're such a faithful believer yourself, you must have learnt a lot from him, growing up. Tell me, what did _you_ think of my sermon?"

Quinn wondered what she had ever said or done to give him the impression of her being a faithful believer. Arriving early to give out bulletins or staying back to tidy the chairs? The only reason she was doing this was because she would much rather be hiding out in here than be paraded out there, putting on a show for the other church-goers to see just how good a Christian and a family man her father was.

"I gained a lot of insight into the topic and feel I can apply many of the learning points." A textbook answer that meant nothing. Her father would approve, Quinn thought, rolling her eyes inside. "Thank you for the well-prepared sermon."

In truth, she did not know what she thought. She had not had many sexual experiences with Finn yet, but it had less to do with her Christian faith and more to do with the fact that every time they got physically close or started kissing, it was like Finn's tall figure would morph into her father – slightly shorter but way more imposing. The familiar fear would return, but unlike those nights with her father, she held the power when she was with Finn. He always respected her "Wait, let's pray" as a signal to stop. She was sure he would be laughed out the door by his buddies if they knew about this but she couldn't – she just couldn't.

And when she bowed her head to pray after she said those words, it wasn't for the purification of her mind or the strength to resist temptation or anything the reverend had preached about. It was for her father to stop visiting her at night and for the fear to go away so she could be a normal teenager again. But those prayers were never answered, she thought bitterly.

"So, did you think the teachings, especially those regarding abstinence, were outdated?"

"No, sir." She honestly didn't but even if she did, there was no alternative answer she could have given anyway.

"Of course not," her father's deep voice came from behind her, startling her. "My daughter is the President of the Celibacy club _and _Christ Crusaders at her school. The perfect example of what teenagers ought to be, especially regarding sexual purity. Isn't that right, Quinn?" he asked, placing a hand firmly on her arm, right over where he had earlier gripped so painfully tightly.

"Yes, sir," Quinn agreed with as much confidence as she could project, even as tendrils of fear creeped into her heart. The hand clamped on her arm made her skin feel itchy. The presence of her father and his lies were enough to make her feel unclean and in desperate need of a shower.

"And her boyfriend is in both clubs too, of course, so he doesn't pressurize her into doing anything." Russell added. "Finn Hudson, you might have heard of him? His father is Christopher Hudson, who died 15 years ago in the service of our great country as a US Marine in the godless Middle East. An honourable death."

Quinn resisted her desire to bolt and nodded, smiling perfunctorily, as always playing the role of his obedient and innocent daughter to perfection.

…

By the time Rachel reached home, she was tired again. It was probably her new oral pain medications, she thought, as she recalled Dr Lopez's advice. "Tramadol is quite a strong painkiller but it may cause you some nausea and drowsiness. Maxalon will help with the nausea, and as for the drowsiness, you should just rest as much as you can to allow your body to heal faster." She wrinkled her nose in annoyance and pinched herself to keep awake. At least Dr Lopez had allowed her to go to school tomorrow.

She couldn't possibly keep taking the medications, however magically they made all the pain go away. It might have been okay to sleep all the time at the hospital but it definitely was not going to be acceptable when she was home. Especially when they were going to a new home, with furniture to arrange, her mom's things to unpack, and plenty of clean-up work to do. Her mom might work from home and not expect her to do all the housework like when she was with her dads, but there was more than enough work to be done here to keep the both of them busy for at least the next few weeks. Besides, since her mom was paying for everything, it was only right for her to still do the chores, even if Mom had said she didn't need to "earn her keep".

Shelby noticed Rachel's eyelids were drooping even though she was trying valiantly to stay awake. "Go upstairs to your room," she urged, ignoring Rachel's protests that she wasn't tired and should help out. "Go take your meds and get some rest, I'll try to tidy the place up. I'll come up and wake you up when dinner is ready."

She smiled when Rachel complied obediently although her smile turned into a sigh as she surveyed the mess that her house was in. Boxes were still strewn everywhere and dust covered every surface. Ugh, she really did hate housework, that's why her tiny room in the shoebox apartment she shared with her roommate in New York had fit her perfectly. But she knew she'd much rather be here in this dusty house with her daughter so she sat her grumbling aside and got to work. She wasn't much of a mom, but the least she could do was try and make the house more liveable and more like a home.

Rachel entered the washroom and removed her clothes, surveying her reflection in the mirror. Her back did look so much better. The welts from the belt that had not broken skin had more or less receded, except for the areas where the belt buckle had landed – those were still crimson and raised, with much deeper bruising. The bruises were probably the only things that hadn't changed much, but they didn't really hurt anyway and she knew they would take a couple of weeks to go away completely.

Her gaze moved downwards. Although the cane wheals on her bottom were still purplish-red, they weren't as swollen as before. The blisters were healing nicely too. They didn't break despite her twisting around to examine her reflection, and none of them were weeping fluid anymore. The previously infected cuts, still covered by fluffy white bandages, had all closed up and weren't bleeding freely anymore. She recalled how they had looked when Nurse Martha was changing the dressings. A few of them had even started to scab over and the rest had lost their angry redness. The infection was clearing, she thought with a smile. Under the conscientious care of the nurses, they were all healing so well in the three short days she had been warded in the hospital, much unlike the weeks they had taken to barely improve when Rachel herself had tried to dress and look after them herself, she recalled with some guilt. Still, Nurse Martha had taught her a lot about wound care and she was fairly certain she could do better next time.

In fact, with the exception of the bruise on her temple hidden by her hair and her still discoloured black eye, both of which could be explained by the fight at school, all the unhealed injuries were limited to just her back, bottom and upper thighs. She was as injury-free as she had ever been and really didn't need the pain medications anymore.

She set the bottles of medications on the counter top and only took a pill from the bottle labeled antibiotics. It made practical sense to put the painkillers aside too, she might need them more later, like before a performance when she needed to be pain-free to perform at her best. Now that she was in the Glee club, her performance level did not just affect herself, and it wouldn't be fair to her teammates if she pulled everyone down just because she irresponsibly got herself punished badly enough to affect her ability to dance. Especially if Shelby wasn't as considerate as Dad, who had often tried to be more lenient before her competitions.

Enough reasons, she told herself, Shelby had instructed her to take her meds but didn't say _which_, plus the painkillers were prescribed 'PRN', which Dr Andy had explained meant they were to be taken as needed. Besides, Shelby wouldn't know if she didn't take them, Rachel had earlier managed to convince her that at the very least, she should be responsible for cleaning her room and the adjoining toilet.

A sudden thought came to her – Clothes! All her clothes were at her dads' place, which she wouldn't mind going to even though they were surely furious with her, but her mom had said she wasn't to see them or speak to them. Even though she had a set of her own keys, she was pretty sure it would be considered a crime to break in when they weren't home, now that she wasn't living with them anymore.

She recalled she had three more sets of clothes in her bag. Of course, they were slushy-soaked but she could wash them and with luck, they would be dry by tomorrow. She would have to rinse them on her own first, hopefully she could get most of the stains out so her mom wouldn't notice them when she put them in the wash. Four sets of clothes should be enough to last her if she did her laundry everyday. She couldn't possibly expect her mom to buy her new clothes on top of all the expenses she was incurring already. Maybe she could bring up getting some kind of job again later.

She put her only set of clean clothes back on. These were freshly laundered at the hospital since she had been wearing hospital gowns for the past few days, so they were still quite clean. A wave of dizziness hit her and she sat down at her desk. Another side effect of the Tramadol and yet another reason for her to not take them.

I'll wash the clothes later, she decided. Mom told me to stay in my room, anyway, so I might as well finish up those Calculus problems and get some more studying done.

…

Quinn hummed as she worked on her Calculus. It was the only work she hadn't completed yet since Santana and Brittany both didn't take that class, and she hadn't wanted to make them wait for her to finish it before they could enjoy their sleepover fun. It was challenging work but the intellectual exercise was satisfying too. Much more satisfying than being shown off like a prized poodle all day.

Most of her classmates liked Friday nights because of the promise of a weekend of freedom and the ability to put off their homework. She, however, much preferred Sunday nights, because that was when her father had cell group and she was guaranteed a night without any unwelcome visitors. Cell group usually ended late because after bible study, the guys would hang out. It was for the same reason that they usually chose to meet at the house of the men who didn't have children, they didn't want to disturb the children's bedtimes. Whatever the reasons, Quinn was just glad that Sundays were usually free of her father's presence, unless it was for punishment if she had misbehaved and disgraced him at church.

It was the 'Lord's day' after all, she thought, smiling at the irony. She didn't know how her father could continue to call himself a Christian after everything he did to her, but she supposed therein lay the hypocrisy of the Fabrays. At least she knew where she'd inherited hers from. Her meanness and bitchiness, especially towards one Rachel Berry, wasn't exactly model Christian behaviour either.

She sighed, recalling that tomorrow the midget would be back in school and she would have to deliver an apology to her during Glee. Singing the dwarf a stupid song wouldn't be anywhere near as distressing to her as getting slushied a hundred times then being beaten up by Karofsky/Adams had been to Rachel, but it was still going to be embarrassing and kind of demeaning to apologise to her long-time nemesis in front of their teammates. And if the diva dared to comment on any sharp notes or critique her breathing and pitch… Ugh!

…

"So, what time do you need to get to school tomorrow?" Shelby asked as she ate her Chinese takeout noodles. She had really wanted to cook a proper dinner for Rachel but by the time she had finished tidying up the house, it had been too late. At least the place looked marginally better, although that was largely because she had moved all the boxes into the spare room and not because she had done any real unpacking.

"I need to be at school at 8.30, so I'll leave around 7.30," Rachel replied.

"Why so early?"

Rachel had no reply. Shelby's house was only 2 miles away from school and she didn't really need an hour to walk the short distance, but she was hoping to reach school early and hide in homeroom so as to avoid the morning slushy. Unfortunately, it wasn't like she could explain the intricacies of high school bullying to her mom, and how she resided at the bottom of the social food chain, subjected to daily icy facials.

"To walk?" she ventured. Some girls walked really slowly, maybe her mom would accept that explanation and not query further.

"I'm dropping you off. We'll leave at 8, then? It's a short 5 minute drive."

"You don't have to, I'm used to walking," Rachel protested.

"Nonsense, you shouldn't be exerting yourself, remember? I'll drive you, it's no trouble at all." Shelby paused. "You're used to walking to school everyday? Don't your dads live even further from school then here?"

"Yes. About 5 miles from school. Brisk walking is good cardiovascular exercise."

Shelby pursed her lips in disapproval. "You can exercise when I'm certain you're fully recovered. I'm driving you tomorrow."

"Yes, mom," Rachel agreed, giving in.

"You have Glee after school, 1pm to 3pm, right? I'll meet you at the principal's office at 3.30, then after the meeting, I'll drive you home, okay? Don't forget."

"Yes, mom." How could she forget? Tomorrow was going to be one heck of a day and had been all she could think about all day. There was Glee practice, during which she would have to face the teammates whom she had thought were her friends, teammates who had slushied her on Thursday. And Quinn, who she now knew had ordered the slushy fest, even though Rachel still had no idea why. She would probably have to apologise to all of them for missing practice too, since she was the one who was always nagging at them not to skip practices. And then meeting Principal Figgins with the two boys – she honestly didn't know how that would turn out, she hoped it wouldn't result in too much pain or too many slushies for herself.

…

**[Warning: Triggers ahead!]**

Quinn gasped as she was rudely woken up in her sleep by an ominous presence lying on top of her. Shit, what was her father doing home so early and why was he here in her room? He wasn't supposed to, it was Sunday!

Harsh lips kissed her hard on the lips, hurting her gums, and rough hands reached under her nightgown, groping at her breasts and butt, places no other guy had ever touched before, not even her boyfriend Finn. She stiffened and tried to wiggle away but her father was too heavy and too strong, and she only managed to turn her head away. His tongue reached out and started to lick her cheek instead, his lips continuing to scorch a path down her neck. The hand that had been grabbing her bottom grappled for her undergarments and ripped them off, flinging them carelessly onto the floor.

"Father, please, no…" she finally pleaded. What was he doing, he'd never done this before! He'd kissed and touched her in the past but never like this. He was usually cold, clinical and efficient, not like this, not so hungry and full of lust.

"Sunday! Cell group!" she cried out when her father did not stop molesting her, panting hard from her exertions in her attempts to get away. His hands reached down to rub between her legs and the now familiar feeling started building up. "Sermon today… sexual purity… Reverend Jones… please don't…"

Her father's hands and mouth paused and Quinn rushed to recite the first words that came to her mind, "Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires…"

That finally caught his attention.

Slap! Russell's hand flew across Quinn's face, cutting off her words, hard enough to leave a swollen red handprint.

"How dare you quote scripture at me!" Russell yelled. "Who the hell taught you your scriptures, huh? ME! What about Ephesians 6, 'Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. "Honor your father and mother" – which is the first commandment with a promise – so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth'."

Reaching down for his belt which was lying beside the bed, he added, "I see you've grown disobedient and defiant and need to be taught a lesson."

He grabbed her legs and pulled her, trying to flip her onto her front, but Quinn grabbed the mattress covers tightly and held on for her dear life. "Please don't, father, please…" she begged.

Russell growled in fury. How dare she disobey him, tonight of all nights! "As you wish," he shouted, abandoning the attempt to flip her body and pulled her legs further apart instead. Raising the belt above his head, he rapidly whipped it down full force between her legs.

A piercing scream erupted from her throat, her mind not comprehending what was being done to her. It knew nothing but the pain, pain beyond anything she could imagine. The belt hit her half a dozen times before her body finally had the sense to react, clamping her legs shut and rolling off the bed, half crawling and half shuffling into the farthest corner of the room.

Her mind was still in a mess. This was crazy, what was her father doing to her? She needed to say something but oddly enough, the only words that came out of her mouth were the continuing verses, "Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord."

Russell was infuriated, how dare she run away from him and continue to spout those attacking verses at him? Why did she choose tonight of all nights to fight back? Enraged, he stalked over to the corner she was huddled in and grabbed the collar of her night dress, pulling her up in one swift motion and pinning her against the wall. His other hand clenched into a fist and pulled back.

Quinn struggled weakly against his firm hold. "Please, I'm your daughter, this is incest and rape and child abuse. And think about mom, this is adultery! Please, Daddy, please don't…" she begged, not expecting to be granted clemency but needing to ask for it anyway. Unlike most nights, she kept her eyes open, looking straight at her father, needing him to really see her, needing to wake him up from his madness.

Her eyes widened in shock as the fist flying towards her froze mid-air and the grip on her clothes slackened, allowing her to fall back to the ground. She looked up at her father. To her astonishment, his face was white as a sheet as though he had just seen a ghost, and although his eyes were wide open, he seemed to be seeing some other place entirely. As Quinn watched from the floor, he turned and stumbled out of the room, grabbing his clothes on his way out, his gait devoid of its usual confident stride.

What the hell had just happened?

…

Russell escaped from the room and headed straight for the washroom, not the one attached to the master bedroom where his wife currently was, but the one in the hallway for guests to use. He barely registered that he had just left his daughter's bedroom still half-clothed, his mind was still reeling with memories that he'd thought he had long ago suppressed and banished forever.

"Please, Daddy, please don't…" the voice rang continuously in his head. Except that it wasn't his daughter's voice he was hearing, but his own younger, more childish voice. He must have been just twelve years old then.

What had made Quinn call him 'Daddy'?

He slammed the bathroom door shut and sank to his knees on the cold tiles.

He knew he had to go to his room to pack his luggage, but for the moment, his mind seemed intent on being stuck in the past, a past he had tried so hard to forget.

Stupid sermon, stupid cell group, stupid men talking about their sexual desires, stupid young men confessing their wet dreams and acts of or desires for premarital sex. Who were they to talk to him about such things? When _he_ hadn't been given a choice as to who his first sexual encounter had been with. When _he _had been held down kicking and screaming as unspeakable sexual acts had been done on him. When _he_ had been sexually stimulated while he was raped as a kid, so much so that he eventually _enjoyed_ it, because enjoying it meant it hurt less. Who the hell were they?

**[/End Warning]**

…

Shelby woke with a start at the strange noises coming from her kitchen. She hadn't been sleeping well anyway. She had always been a night owl and would never have gone to bed at _nine_ if she didn't have to wake up early tomorrow to prepare Rachel's breakfast and drive her to school.

She rolled out of bed and started towards the stairs. Whoever was in her kitchen was trying their best to be quiet. On the way, she peeped into Rachel's bedroom to find the bed empty and unslept in. Bingo!

"What are you doing washing your clothes at this late hour?" Shelby's voice cut through the silence of the night just as the kitchen lights came on, temporarily blinding her. Rachel froze, resembling a deer caught in the headlights.

She offered the most obvious answer. "They're for school tomorrow. I didn't have any other clothes to wear."

"Oh." Shelby replied, feeling guilty that she hadn't even thought to make sure Rachel had her clothes. She should have thought of that sometime in the last 3 days, of course Rachel would only have the clothes she was wearing and would need to get some from her fathers' place. She would need to ask Sharon how to do that tomorrow. For now, though, "Where did the other clothes come from?"

"They're spare sets of clothes I keep in my locker, in case."

"I see. And if they're spares, why are you washing them, and in the middle of the night at that?"

"Erm… It's 10.30."

Shelby strided over and picked up the clothes from where Rachel was scrubbing them in the sink. There were three sweaters and three skirts, and the sweater she had been scrubbing at when Shelby walked in was heavily stained. She lifted it slightly and looked at Rachel questioningly.

"The washing machine couldn't get the stains out so I was trying to scrub it out," Rachel explained. "I'm sorry I forgot all about them in the hospital and left the stains to settle for too long."

"I see. And why would your spare clothes be so badly stained?"

Rachel shuffled uneasily and decided to go with honesty. "Some of my schoolmates threw slushies at me on Thursday. It's why I was having a bad day."

"I see," Shelby repeated. "I'll be talking to your principal about this tomorrow as well."

"But…" _Shit_. Principal Figgins couldn't (and wouldn't) punish the dozens of students that had slushied her but she hoped she didn't let slip that it was Quinn who had ordered the slushies in the first place. Her mom's lips were drawn in a thin line and she looked really annoyed. If anything happened to Quinn, Rachel was going to be so dead for the rest of high school.

"Uh-uh. Go to sleep, Rachel, I'll make sure your clothes are ready by tomorrow morning, okay?"

"I really should…" she protested feebly.

"You really should be resting in bed and not scrubbing at clothes." Shelby's tone left no room for argument.

Rachel cast one last glance at the clothes, berating herself for not having been quieter and having woken her mom up. "Thank you, mom. And good night, again."

Shelby leaned over and kissed Rachel on the forehead. "Good night, sweetie. Sweet dreams."

…

Quinn wiped the tears away and pulled herself up, using the wall for support. She had been sitting in the corner hugging her knees and sobbing into her arms for the past hour and she was pretty sure she had run out of tears to cry. She took a few tentative steps forward on shaky legs but barely made it halfway to the bathroom before she collapsed onto her bed.

Damn it, even walking _hurt_. She lifted her nightdress to check the damage. There were a few overlapping welts all in the same area, extending vertically up her lower abdomen from between her legs, the longest almost reaching her belly button. But the worst of the pain came from the part of the welts that couldn't be seen. Hidden between her legs, in her most sensitive and private areas, the swollen welts rubbed and chafed at each other in the most excruciating manner with every step she took.

How was she supposed to go to school tomorrow?

She closed her eyes and lay on her bed but kept her legs slightly parted to relieve the pressure on the welts. Was she seriously worried about school? What the hell had just happened, did her father just go crazy on her? Was this going to be a common thing from now on?

The tears she had been so sure she had run out of, spilled down her cheeks again and this time, she didn't bother wiping them away.


	13. Two Wrongs Don't Make A Right

beaner008 – Thanks! Hope you enjoy this one, I had fun writing it. I'm beginning to really hate writing those dark creepy scenes, that's why I keep separating Russell and Quinn

Gleek1990 – Thanks! Yup, it definitely doesn't make it okay, although it does give us impetus to rescue the Quinns of this world so they don't turn into Russells. His story is disturbing, though, even for me, so I don't think I'll really get into it unless a dark dark mood strikes me one fine day. Or one dark and stormy night, as the case may be.

Beverlie4055 – Thanks! Hope you like this one too.

Ajunebuga – Thanks, it was painful to write too. Many tears, and when you're crying while tapping away on your iPad on the subway, it sure earns you quite a few stares, haha.

btvscharmedgirl – I'm sorry but he's going to return. He needs to return for me to rescue Quinn! But the (permanent) rescue is coming soon, I promise.

anon – I'm sorry but yea, Judy knows everything but she's turning two blind eyes and ears to it. I honestly don't know how she could ignore it, though. Rachel is prepared for any and every eventuality, but slowly, she'll get better. (:

BellaDora Soulmates – Can he be doing something like this for more than a year and not realize what he's been doing? I haven't thought of that possibility. You ask many questions, I hope this chapter is to your satisfaction and answers some of them!

mooncheese1331 – I wish life was so simple. Shelby has talked much to Rachel already, like Rachel she tends to start rambling on if you haven't noticed, but it's going to take more than a few conversations to change her deep-seated mindset. I hope I've been covering other aspects of her thoughts and emotions and not over-focused on her anticipation of coming punishment, I tried to pass the 'punishment' thoughts as thoughts she had in passing, since they are very normal to her. As for Rachel and Quinn, I sincerely doubt Rachel would dare "drag Quinn into the bathroom" but I'm curious as to what "everything" you hope for Rachel to explain to Quinn. Btw, you get cake for being my 100th reviewer, YAY!

**A/N. 100 reviews, awesome! Here's a little appetizer from Monday's school scenes, they were fun to write! **

Chapter 13. Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right

Quinn walked down the stairs and noticed that her mother had started eating her breakfast without waiting for her father.

"Where's Father?" she asked.

"Didn't we tell you? Your father has a conference this week, that's why he came home early from cell group yesterday."

"Oh. Right." Quinn sat down gingerly at her seat and started eating her own breakfast.

Her parents did mention the conference but she had thought it was held the following week. It was a week-long conference in Washington, she remembered and did a little cheer in her head. Hopefully, her father would have regained his sanity by Friday and wouldn't remember her disobedience from last night.

The welts still ached, although it wasn't as bad as it had been the previous night. Urinating in particular had stung really badly, but at least she was now able to walk more normally. Not at all comfortably, but normally enough that hopefully no one would notice. The application of cool, soothing aloe vera gel had helped somewhat as well.

The pain almost felt good, reminding her that despite all the misadventures of the previous night, her father had not managed to rape her in any orifice. She turned that thought over in her head with no small amount of pride. The dull ache of the welts almost felt like penace for all the nights in which she had just opened her legs and laid there obediently like a prostitute and allowed her father to have his way with her without so much as a "No". It was a trade she would have made any day, although she knew last night was different because her father had probably just been in a rush to catch his flight. If she had repeated that stunt any other time, it would probably have earned her a much more thorough beating which would probably still have ended in the nightly rape. She recalled the first night it had happened and shook her head almost imperceptibly. No, she wasn't going to think about that night. She would burn that night from her memory if she could.

Rape. After she had vocalized those words to her father last night, she couldn't stop repeating them in her head. She wondered if it was her saying those words aloud that had shocked her father into his crazed and hurried departure. Neither of them had said them before – the first few times, he had gagged her and forbidden her from speaking, and eventually, she had learnt to keep silent, with the exception of the occasional unintelligible scream. Not that her screams ever brought anyone to her rescue anyway, even though her mother had to be deaf to not hear them. That thought sat bitterly in her mind and now that her father wasn't home, she wanted to scream at her mother and ask her why. However, deep down inside, she knew her mother was just like herself, just obeying 'the man of the house' like they had been taught.

Perhaps, it was even her own fault. Even in the day, she followed his lead and never mentioned, much less gave a name to those nightly activities. Her mother couldn't have not known but Quinn chose not to mention it as well. What could she say anyway, "I'm sleeping with your husband"? Your husband who also happens to be my father.

What a screwed up family this was.

Incest. Rape. Child abuse. They still sounded like something that happened to other girls in other families in godless and sexually depraved cities like New York or Los Angeles, not in their devoutly religious family in their conservative town of Lima, Ohio. It was just something that you never heard about.

She recalled what her father had said about Rachel's fathers being reported to CPS, which was also the first time she had heard of anyone's parents being reported to CPS. Was it a genuine report or some religious ploy to throw the two homosexual men out of their town? Rachel wasn't like her, she loved her fathers very much and spoke so highly of them all the time. They were always showing up to her performances too, sitting in the front row, wearing big smiles on their faces. It _had_ to be the latter.

She sighed, wondering again if her father had had anything to do with their CPS charges. She knew her father did things like that often enough, making baseless accusations stick to innocent people whose only crime had been to offend him, and everyone knew how much he hated the Berry men. She also knew about the things people said about the goings-on between him and his secretaries and other female colleagues too, women who disappeared soon after the rumours were spread, moving away as quickly as the rumours started to appear, the accusations of sexual harassment vanishing miraculously as well. She hadn't heard those stories in the past year, though.

But in Rachel's case, it was a school teacher who had reported her parents. The teachers at McKinley were a bunch of useless idiots, but which of them would have done something as malicious as this? Coach Sylvester was the one who found Rachel, was she the one who had reported it? Coach was a mean bitch but she definitely wasn't a religious fanatic and she certainly wasn't that cruel. She hated Rachel - she hated _all_ the Glee kids - but she was more likely to shove Rachel into lockers or plot to overthrow Rachel's beloved Glee club than do something as underhanded and callous as this.

Ugh, why did she keep thinking about Rachel freaking Streisand? Maybe it was the stupid song she had been practicing for Glee today, the lyrics were clearly starting to affect her. She smiled, recalling the lyrics. Maybe it was those lyrics that had caused her to fight back last night as well.

Now that she had successfully resisted his advances for once, however, she wondered why she hadn't fought back in such a long time. More importantly, she wondered if she was going to continue resisting. Now that she knew she _could_ stop him, she no longer had any excuse not to try. Even if nine times out of ten, her attempts ended in failure she just _had to_ try if there was even just that small chance of keeping him away. Her pride wouldn't allow her to do otherwise.

Pride? Quinn scoffed internally. No one with any amount of pride would allow her father to do the things he had done and continued to do to her without fighting back, without reporting him. But that was when she'd thought she had no chance of success in resisting. Now that she had succeeded once, though...

_What was she going to do when he returned home on Friday?_

...

Shelby rubbed her eyes tiredly. Washing those stains out had taken her two hours last night, after which she hadn't been able to fall asleep, wondering what kind of school life Rachel had led, if slushies were a normal occurrence for her, normal enough that on any given day, she kept three sets of spare clothes in her locker. Shelby's heart ached with the realization that Rachel's home life wasn't the only part of her life that had been awful.

Three sets had apparently been not enough, either. Two of the sweaters had one or two different colours of splashes on them but the third had been so thoroughly stained and soaked that it had taken her an hour of scrubbing to reveal its original colour was beige. She had been so tempted to just bleach the damn thing - it was a revolting sweater anyway, one she herself would never have been caught dead in, in public, regardless of her age. If it was her own sweater, she would most definitely have just thrown it away but it wasn't, it was one of a pathetic four tops her daughter currently owned and it didn't feel right destroying it. One way or another, she really needed to get more clothes for Rachel soon. She would alter her own clothes if she could, but their sizes were just too vastly different to make that possible.

Shelby stared at the three sets of finally clean clothes in front of her. The hideous looking animal sweaters looked practically identical to each other. These had to be her spare clothes because they were of poorer quality than the rest of her more normal clothes, right? No way any girl above ten chooses to wear such horrendous pieces of clothing to school, they would be mocked mercilessly by their peers!

But she also knew that teenagers generally didn't like it when their mothers commented on their clothing or fashion sense. Shelby had thought as a mom from New York, she would at least have additional cool factor in her favour and would be more open-minded than most other moms when it came to her daughter's teenage attire but this was seriously pushing it.

Rachel's head poked into the kitchen at that moment. Spying the clean and dry clothes folded on the counter, she moved the rest of her body into the kitchen. "Thank you, Mom!" she said, reaching over to grab them. "I needed them to change into. Thanks for helping me wash them last night, I hope it didn't take you too long?" She gathered all three sets and moved to leave but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"It was no trouble, Rachel, but wait a minute. I didn't want to discuss this last night because it was late and I wanted you to go to sleep but we need to talk about this slushying. Why are your schoolmates throwing slushies at you?"

Rachel shifted her weight uneasily. "They don't like me very much."

"That's not a reason."

Rachel shrugged, staring down at her feet. "It's not just me, they do it to the other unpopular kids they don't like too. It's really not a big deal."

Great, now her mom knew she was unpopular and not well-liked, she thought unhappily. Shelby was so pretty she probably was very popular in high school. She was probably disappointed Rachel was an ugly, unpopular freak unlike herself.

"And no one stops them?" Shelby asked incredulously. She was about to go into a rant but stopped herself. Rachel was clearly uncomfortable with the topic and nothing could be gained from scaring her now. She was definitely going to have more than a few words with her principal, though. First fighting, and now slushies... What kind of school was he running there? She wasn't sure if her daughter should be attending such a horrible school that allowed bullying to run so rampantly. If the principal's answer wasn't satisfactory, she might consider moving them all to Akron, Ohio where she grew up and let Rachel study at Carmel High instead. The school transfer wouldn't be an issue, Rachel's grades and school record were so great that she was sure to be welcomed with open arms, But that was a plan to think about later. Akron was more than 150 miles away from Lima, so they would have to move house _again._ Anyway, they couldn't leave Lima until the court proceedings were all over.

Rachel watched silently as her mom appeared to be deep in thought. _Please stop asking me so many difficult questions_, Rachel prayed and thankfully, her prayers were answered almost immediately.

"Go get ready for school, Rachel, breakfast will be ready at 7.30. Remember we're leaving at 8."

"You really don't have to…" Rachel began but her protests were cut short by a glare from Shelby. She recalled their conversation at the hospital and wondered which Rachel was referring to, the "right" to eat breakfast or being driven to school.

Either way, "Go," she insisted. "I'm making two protein shakes for you as well, one for after breakfast and the other for you to bring to school. I want you to finish both, okay?"

"Yes, Mom," Rachel agreed as she headed for the stairs. Living with her mom was going to take a lot of getting used to, she thought, as she packed two sets of clothes into ziplock bags and stuffed them into her bag. The third, she brought into the washroom to change into.

…

Rachel stepped cautiously into the hallway of McKinley. So far so good, no jocks in sight. There was one Cheerio further down the hallway... Oh, that was Quinn. But Quinn hadn't noticed her yet, so that was still good.

She stared at Quinn's retreating back. Something wasn't right. She was wearing her long-sleeved uniform unlike on Thursday but that was no surprise, December was around the corner and the weather was getting cool. Rachel herself was glad that the sweaters in her possession were her warmer ones; she didn't understand how most of the other Cheerios were still walking around in their sleeveless uniforms. She studied the head Cheerio more carefully, determined to figure out what was so odd.

Firstly, she wasn't doing her usual arrogant strut down the school hall, she was walking at a slower speed as though she was thinking about something, and she wasn't glaring at anyone. Secondly, her gait was weird. Rachel should know, she had stared at Quinn often enough, trying to figure out what made the beautiful blonde so popular, what made the popular blonde hate her so much, and what a nice boy like Finn would see in such a mean girl like Quinn.

Seriously, though, she was trying to hide it but there was something wrong with the way she walked, not exactly bowlegged but like she was trying to keep her legs slightly apart. It wasn't very obvious, Rachel only noticed because she remembered when she used to walk like that.

_9-year-old Rachel leaned her forehead against the wall, tears streaming down her face. The belt descended on the highest part of her bottom, landing with a loud 'Thwap', leaving behind a burning stripe of pain. She cried out, twisting her body around, drumming her feet against the floor to get rid of the horrible sting. _

"_Hold position, damn it!" Leroy screamed as he whipped the belt down again, this time across the junction between her bottom and her upper thighs, the sensitive area which she sat upon that was already bleeding from too many overlapping welts. Again, she kicked out. She tried her best to keep her legs still and straight but it was so painful and she just couldn't help it. She sobbed in fear of what her Dad was going to do to her for being so disobedient._

_Leroy threw the belt on the floor in rage. He stalked over to his daughter and pressed down on her shoulders. "Do a split, legs apart now!"_

_Stunned out of her painful misery but still in a daze, she hurried to comply, her butt and thigh muscles protesting painfully as she stretched them, especially the swollen welts that were now stretched taut. But years of ballet training ensured she still retained her childhood flexibility, and she managed to get into the required position. She looked up at her Dad questioningly through tear-filled eyes. She wasn't being punished for a ballet mistake, so why was she being asked to do a split?_

"_Lean forward, with your body flat on the floor," he ordered, stepping back to pick up his fallen belt. _

_As soon as Rachel's torso touched the floor, he brought the belt down again, but not on the red blistered bottom that was bulging out in her awkward position. Instead, he aimed for the lower part of her left bottom, allowing the tail end of the belt to curl around, biting into her smooth untouched inner thigh._

"_Ahhh!" Rachel screamed, her hands shooting back to grab at the place on her inner thigh where the strap had landed. That was ten times more painful than any stroke on her bottom had been, even welted and blistered as it was! _

"_Shut up, girl!" Leroy yelled again, bringing the belt down again, right across his daughter's rubbing hands. _

"_Eeee!" Rachel squealed shrilly, unable to control her vocal protests as she pulled her hands away. "Please, Dad, no! Not there!" she pleaded, twisting her body so her watery eyes looked up at her father as she shook her hands, rubbing at where the belt had left a red mark. The widely spread position of her legs meant that she couldn't move them but her upper body still struggled wildly, trying to deal with the new pain being inflicted on it._

"_Count them! You get 10 every time you don't hold position. And those don't count if you keep yelling and moving around, grabbing at your legs, getting in the way of punishment you know you damn well deserve. Keep your body down and keep those hands out of the way!"_

_Rachel tearfully complied, bending forward and clasping her hands behind her head. _

"_One!" she screamed as the tip of stinging belt snapped into the sensitive insides of her thighs once more. All the muscles in her arms and upper back flexed and tensed, their outlines clearly seen, as her hands gripped each other tightly to prevent them from moving back to soothe the unbearable pain the belt had left behind on her tortured skin. _

She shook her head out of the memories. By the end of that punishment, her inner thighs had been just as welted and blistered as her bottom, all because she just couldn't learn to keep still and shut up. She remembered begging her Dad to take her across the knee like he used to, but he had yelled that she was too fat and heavy and had to learn to take her punishment "like a big girl".

It was the first time he had started to train her to take her punishments leaning against the wall, but it wasn't the first time he had spanked her there. When she was younger and kicked out when she was being spanked over his knee, Dad would get really angry too, yelling at her that if she wanted to kick around like a little hooligan, he would spank her legs until they stopped kicking. And he did, grabbing her thighs one at a time and whacking the hairbrush down on the insides of her thighs until she learnt to keep her ankles crossed and hands clasped in front of her, accepting her punishment "properly like a lady".

But it had taken many more painful lessons for her to learn to hold proper position leaning against the wall during discipline, and for weeks, she had walked just like that. The welts and blisters rubbed against each other with every step she took, reminding her of her own lack of self-control but when she tried to walk with her legs apart in an unladylike manner, Dad would hit her, screaming at her for her inexcusably poor deportment that reflected badly on her fathers, accusing her of trying to gain sympathy for well-deserved punishment and trying to get her fathers in trouble. If walking normally was painful, she only had herself to blame.

Needless to say, she had eventually learnt to keep her legs together and feet on the ground when being punished, no matter how much it hurt, to save herself from even more pain. And now, here was Quinn was walking with that same familiar limp. It was subtle but Rachel was certain it was there. She frowned. But why? There were no marks on her inner thighs, nothing to indicate she had been punished in the same manner.

"What are you staring at?" Quinn snapped at Rachel out of habit. So much for trying to be nicer to the diva. She panicked a little, wondering if the red hand print on her face was still visible. She hated having such fair skin sometimes, it was always very difficult to cover up the occasional bruise or red mark but the redness had gone down a lot when she had checked on it this morning, and she thought she had hid it pretty well.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked. "Your walking is a little funny."

Quinn's jaw clenched. "I'm fine," she ground out, resisting the urge to call her a defeminising name for staring at her. Who was she to comment on the way she walked? She couldn't have noticed, could she? "Just overstretched a little at cheerleading practice. Why are you staring at me anyway?"

Her eyebrows narrowed further in annoyance when Rachel suddenly pushed her to the lockers and squeezed her eyes shut. She turned to look at the direction that Rachel was facing to see the hockey team, led by their captain, barreling down on them. "Good morning, Q! Sorry, we had morning practice on Thursday and didn't manage to catch the little midget here. We'll make up for it now if you don't mind?"

Quinn looked between the group of tall, muscular boys all holding slushies of various flavours and the tiny, younger girl who just closed her eyes, accepting that she was going to get slushied. Who didn't even bother to run, who damn it, had just tried to "save" Quinn from getting slushied, the slushies Quinn herself had ordered. She felt worse than ever. And the boys had just announced that last fact to the girl. _Great._ But Rachel seemingly hadn't heard them, she just stood there, although she had a rare look of fear on her face. Did she like, have PTSD from Thursday's multiple slushies? Or maybe it was the beating from Karofsky and Adams that made her afraid of the school athletes? Quinn's heart twinged guiltily at that thought.

She stepped in front of the boys just as they came to a stop in front of Rachel. "Give me your cup," she ordered.

The captain complied immediately, laughing. "Wanting to join in the fun today, Fabray?"

Rachel opened her eyes and stared curiously at the exchange. She knew she really should be closing her eyes before the slushies hit her there, stinging them and temporarily blinding her; and if she had any sense at all, she would run away now, to try and avoid the slushies altogether. Quinn was less than an arm's length away from her and it wouldn't take long for a slushy thrown from that distance to hit her eyes, barely giving her any time to react. Also, so many slushies all at once would most definitely wet all her bandages, and earn her the wrath of her mother, doctors and Nurse Martha too. However, something told her this was going to end differently than she was used to. Besides, Quinn usually only ordered the slushies, she never threw them personally.

True enough, she watched with widening eyes as, almost in slow motion, Quinn pulled her arm back towards Rachel, ready to throw the cup of slush in the hockey captain's face. The rest of the hockey team looked almost comical as they all stood there, icy drinks in their hands, frozen to the spot. Who were they supposed to side with, their captain or HBIC Fabray?

"Stop!" shouted Rachel, as she reached out to grab Quinn's wrist, the one right in front of her face, that was attached to the hand holding the cup of icy drink she was all too familiar with. "No, Quinn. Don't."

"What?" Quinn asked, spinning around. She stared at the small hand around her wrist. 'It's more like a kid's than like a man's', was the first thought that came to her head and she shook it off. _Seriously?_

"They were all going to slushy you. Why did you stop me?"

Rachel wracked her brain searching for a reason that made sense. Why had she stopped Quinn? "Their coach will _kill_ them if they dirty their Letterman jackets."

Quinn stared at Rachel incredulously. What kind of a reason was that?

"Two wrongs don't make a right, Quinn. You don't have to slushy them back, I'll be very thankful as long as you call off the slushies." A sudden thought came to her. "Perhaps even for this whole week?" she added slyly.

Bingo! The solution to avoiding the slushies for a week. Would Quinn be willing to help her?

Quinn's eyes met hers for a fleeting moment before she turned back to the boys.

"You heard her. No more slushies this week, on anyone. And no more slushies on Rachel Berry here forever."

The boys stared dumbly at Quinn. Who was this girl and what had she done to Quinn Fabray? If there was one thing everyone knew about Quinn Fabray, it was that she hated Rachel Berry.

"Are you guys stupid? Do you not understand English? You had better spread the word about my newest orders, because I'm holding you all personally responsible if a single drop of slushy falls on her, is that clear? You don't want to know what I'm capable of, your coach would be the least of your worries if a drop of slushy falls on her. Now move it!"

The boys scampered off, rushing to escape from the wrath of HBIC Fabray, their captain not even bothering to retrieve his cup of slushy.

Quinn turned back to Rachel. Good thing she was used to spinning and twirling around in cheerleading, otherwise all this turning around would have made her dizzy.

Rachel was still staring at her dumbstruck, looking even more comical than the boys had been. Quinn glared pointedly at her still captured wrist and she startled, releasing her wrist at once and jumping one step back.

"Sorry..." she began, but Quinn held up her hand, cutting her off. "It's fine." She looked around to check that none of her Cheerios were watching, and more importantly, that Coach Sylvester wasn't around before she continued. "I guess I'm the one who deserves to get slushied," she said simply, extending the cup towards Rachel.

Rachel frowned and shook her head once, clearly confused at the situation.

_Hurry up before people start gathering to watch!_ Quinn thought in frustration. "Go ahead. I have extra clothes in my locker."

It finally clicked in Rachel's head. Her frown deepened. "No. I wouldn't. You do know what that idiom means, right? Two wrongs don't make a right. It means although you slushying me was wrong, you slushying the boys or me slushying you would be just as wrong and wouldn't make anything better or right. What you did, stopping the boys and calling off the slushies was more than enough and I'm very very grateful to you for that. Thank you very much."

It was Quinn's turn to stare at Rachel. "I know what it means, I'm not stupid," she snapped.

_Ugh, why did she have to make this harder than it already was?_

"You do know I was the one who had ordered those slushies, right?" she mimicked. "The slushies last Thursday and those the hockey team almost emptied on you."

Rachel nodded. "I already knew last week. I overheard some girls talking about your text when I was in the toilet. I just didn't know the order was still standing today."

"You were _hiding_ in the _toilet_?"

Rachel blushed in embarrassment. "Well I certainly wasn't admiring the pornographic pictures of myself drawn on the bathroom walls."

"That was me too, actually."

Rachel stared then nodded once. Reaching up, she removed the drink from Quinn's still outstretched hand and took a long sip from it, smiling at Quinn's confusion. "Grape, my favourite flavour!"

Quinn glared at Rachel. "Really? I thought it would be straw_berry_."

Rachel laughed and shrugged, she did walk right into that one. "Well, thank you for standing up for me just now. You don't know how much I really appreciate it."

Quinn frowned at the undeserved thanks and pressed on. "Why did you push me out of the way if you knew I was the one who had ordered the slushies in the first place?" she asked, curious.

Rachel gave her a wry smile. "Can you imagine the repercussions if I had allowed you to get in the way of slushies that were meant for me?"

_Wow, I really am a bitch,_ Quinn thought with no shortage of self-loathing and disgust.

...

"Hello, Quinn!" Brittany shouted from down the hall and bounded over to engulf Quinn in a classic Brittany bear hug, not caring that her friend was rummaging through her locker for her books for the next period, and not facing her.

Oof! "Wow, B, you're very happy today," Quinn commented, untangling herself from Brittany's long arms.

"I'm happy everyday!" Brittany laughed.

Quinn smiled. That _was_ true and a major part of the reason why she was such fun to hang out with. "Well, you're _especially_ happy today."

"Sanny slept over at _my_ house last night for a change! We..."

"TMI, B, let's go for Spanish now!" Santana interrupted quickly, hooking her pinkie into Brittany's and pulling her in the opposite direction, as though Quinn could not infer what happens when you take Satana away from her parents and put her in bed with Brittany. "I want to get the back seats so _I_ can tutor you without Mr Schuester finding out. He may be a decent Glee teacher but my god he _sucks_ at Spanish."

"Okay, San-San!" Brittany chirped, forgetting her previous train of thought as she followed after her best friend. "Isn't our Spanish classroom in the other direction, though?"

Santana reddened in embarrassment at her mistake. "I knew that, I wanted to get something from my locker first." She looked around to check if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation and lowered her voice. "And quit with the cutesy names in school, you'll spoil my reputation!"

"But I can't help it, you're so cute!" Brittany exclaimed loudly, seemingly oblivious to Santana's embarrassed discomfort and obvious desire to keep things quiet.

Santana groaned, although she couldn't hide the widening smile on her face. "Remember when I told you we'll be playing a game of Pretend in school? We'll pretend I'm not _cute_ ('Totally not her favorite word!' she thought, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust.) and we'll pretend we don't do those stuff, okay?"

"What stuff?" Brittany asked, tilting her head back to look at her innocently.

"The stuff we did at your place last night!" Santana hissed.

"Oh, you mean, the awesome mind-blowing sex we had? I can't wait to do it again!"

"Britttttt!" came Santana's exasperated whine, and Brittany laughed cheekily, clearly having done that on purpose just to rile her 'San-San' up.

Quinn watched the exchange from behind her locker door with an amused smile, until they were too far away for her to hear their conversation. At least somebody had a good night. Santana deserved it, she was so deep in the closet it was depressing. If these 'resisting her father' attempts worked out, maybe she would excuse herself from their regular sleepovers, give the two more time to spend together. It would allow the Latina to work through her feelings for the taller blonde, and then perhaps she would stop being so angry all the time.

…

"What the hell!" Karofsky shouted as he looked up from his benchpress to see Puck, Finn, Mike and Matt standing around him. The gym had been empty when he came in because it was lunchtime – he preferred to do his lifting when there weren't other shirtless guys around him, distracting him from his workout.

When did they come in? What were they doing here? What did they want from him?

"What are you homos doing in here?" he growled, getting off the benchpress. He stood up, drawing himself to full height to intimidate them more easily but unfortunately, it was quite difficult to intimidate when you were outnumbered four to one. Five, he corrected - the kid in the wheelchair whose name he didn't know was guarding the door.

Puck slammed his right fist into his open left palm solidly. The other guys followed suit.

By now, Karofsky had to admit, he was honestly quite scared. What the hell did he do?

"We heard you and your buddy Adams beat up Rachel on Thursday," Puck stated.

"Mr Schuester said you guys worked her over badly enough that she had to go to the hospital," Mike added quietly.

"And she was injured so badly that she can't dance for the next two weeks," said Matt, raising his voice.

"Two dudes beating up a small girl like Rachel is not cool, dude!" Finn shouted, slamming his fist into the locker beside him.

"I get it," Karofsky said, trying to act like he wasn't frightened. "You five losers are here to defend your Loser Queen. Takes five of you cowards to take on a stud like me. Well bring it on, freaks, I'm not scared of you."

"Guys who pick on girls are the worst. Besides, you're bigger than any one of us, whereas you and Azimio are each three times Rachel's size," Artie replied from his position at the door. "Who's the coward here?" he asked.

At that moment, Puck drew back his fist and let it fly through the air at a terrifying speed towards his face and David screamed, shielding his face with his hands. The force of the punch never hit him, however, and David silenced his whimpers, annoyed at how girly he had just acted. _Just like Rachel had when he was pummeling her_. He opened his eyes to see that Puck's fist had stopped just an inch away from his face.

"This is just a warning," Finn declared. "Stay away from Rachel, from all the girls in our Glee club, or else…"

"Or…or else what?" Karofsky spat back, although his shaky, trembling voice betrayed his fear. "You won't dare to hit me, you'll get suspended just like your precious _Rachel_."

"Oh yeah, we forgot about that. You beat up a girl and let her take the fall for it, saying she hit you first. Where's your balls, sissy?"

It was Karofsky's turn to draw his fist back but Mike and Matt pinned his arm to the nearest locker so he could not move it despite him struggling to.

"You're going to apologise to Rachel and tell Principal Figgins the truth, is that clear?"

"No way!"

"Remember how I just got out of Juvie two months ago?" Puck asked in a creepy friendly tone, rolling up his sleeves and flexing his biceps. "I made quite a number of good friends there, you know? So you and _your_ buddy will apologise to Rachel, then stay the hell away from all our girls or else I'll give some of _my_ buddies a call, and they will make your life a living hell." He drew out the last six words to emphasise that this was no idle threat. "No questions asked."

"That's enough, Puck. Let's go," Artie said from the door. "Come on, we'll be late for Glee."

Puck spat on Karofsky's terrified face, and walked out of the gym, followed closely by the other four boys.


	14. Author's Note

Author's Note

Hi, guys. I'm really sorry but my Granny passed away, so I've been really busy. She had been having numerous medical issues before she died, and I was very busy then looking after her as well.

Even if I weren't busy, I'm not really in the right state of mind for fanfiction writing anyway.

So this author's note is to let you know I'm hitting the pause button on this story, just for now. I'll be back in… maybe a couple of weeks? Hopefully.

Thanks for the support all this while, I really appreciate it.


	15. Glee

SawSyndicate – Thanks! Wow, I'm interested to know where you noticed Singaporean-ness in my fic cos I've been trying very hard to mimic American high school, haha.

JAMES-EAI – To answer your question, Faberry friendship (and more) will be coming soon but not a relationship. As for Quinn telling someone about her bastard father, I think, like her father, she cares about appearances too much to just tell someone, otherwise she would have done so a long time ago.

Ajunebuga – Oh yes, the dark and twisted things that come out of my head. I'm glad you liked the first beginnings of friendship between Quinn and Rachel, I hope it was realistic enough considering they're still kind of enemies. Your second review (Chapter 14) had me stumped, though. I don't remember writing in an aunt or any mental illness.

– Thanks. They'll definitely become friends, thanks for not asking if they'll fall in love XD

Kass Vokturner – Thanks. I'm glad you can relate to Quinn and Rachel, it has almost been my intention to make my writing real and personal, relatable. However, I certainly hope you haven't personally experienced any of the terrible things I've been putting my characters through. I relate to them too, and actually, I write them in this realistic manner because I put a lot of myself into them. I don't really know how to write any other way. Before writing this fic, I pretty much write only non-fiction besides journaling once in a while, so I still don't really know how to create a story and characters from scratch.

Shana - Wow, thanks. Hope you continue reading.

CarmellaD'Winter – Thank you. Quinn and Rachel are both being hurt by their own real fathers, so in that aspect, I think the psychological damage is equally great. Rachel, however, does have a mom who cares for her whereas Quinn has a horrible mom who ignores everything her dad is doing to her, which to me, is where Quinn has it worse. That said, Rachel is also mentally manipulated into her dads' warped beliefs whereas at least Quinn knows what he's doing is wrong. Obviously Russell knows what he's doing is wrong too, as opposed to self-righteous Leroy or oblivious Hiram who just plain get on my nerves. I don't know if that's a good thing, though, that Quinn knows it's wrong but doesn't run away. Now that Rachel is saved, Quinn's story will come out more and more and I'll save her as soon as possible. Santana will also feature in both their recoveries. Hope you continue to enjoy my fic.

**A/N. Thank you for your condolences and your kind understanding regarding my break from updates. I might update less frequently but rest assured, I have plans for this fic. My emotions are still kind of messed up now, for example an hour ago, I sat on my bathroom floor and cried while writing out a scene in my head, a scene I did plan to write eventually, but is so far ahead that I don't have a chapter number for it yet (and I have planned and numbered my chapters up to 25). **

**Just a little warning: This chapter and the next few are still going to be Rachel-centric, until Quinn's rescue. I would say I have writer's block regarding Quinn's characterization except that you can't block what has never been there – I've never had much to say about Quinn, her thoughts and feelings still elude me. She's a lot more complicated a character than Rachel, which should make her characterization easier, I know, since logically speaking, there are many more angles to her, more to write about, but for the life of me, I cannot get a grip on who she is. Anyway, I have a feeling my Quinn doesn't really know who she is either, at this point in her life. Also, I think I like writing Rachel more because Rachel's story fascinates me. Maybe, it's because it's quite new (at least among Glee fanfic), whereas Quinn abuse/incest/rape by Russell has often been written about and I don't have much new thoughts to add to it, at least until her plot starts moving along. I confess my reluctance to write her has caused her and Russell to constantly be moved away from each other (Quinn's sleepover, Russell's trip) but I promise I'll start moving her plot along soon, and hopefully, her character will reveal herself to me (and to you, my readers) then. **

**Because there have been questions, I will repeat myself – Quinn is still an important character, important enough that she is Main Character #2, after Rachel. There will be Faberry friendship eventually, but no Faberry romance, because I do not know how to write romance, much less lesbian romance (Not being homophobic here, please). You can imagine what you wish, though, and if any Faberry writers out there want to write their own alternative Faberry ending to my fic, just ask my permission (: **

**By the way, I'm re-posting this chapter under no. 15, restoring my previous Author's Note to no.14. My apologies if you thought there was a new chapter and was disappointed.  
**

Chapter 14. Glee

Rachel sat alone in the choir room eating her lunch. Her mom had packed her a lunch _in addition to_ the protein shake she had prepared for her. It was all healthy food, of course, but together, it was way too many calories, much more than she normally ate even when she was exercising, dancing and attending various classes everyday. It seemed her mom was truly determined to fatten her up. But no one had ever packed her a lunch before, and her mom's kindness touched her so deeply, so really, there was no way she could have refused.

Her heart warmed in her chest as she recalled how well Shelby had been looking after her. She was really going out of her way to make sure she had everything she needed and at the same time, still steadfastly refusing to let Rachel help her with anything. Rachel was afraid she was overworking herself, she had looked really tired this morning, and Rachel guiltily wondered how long it had taken her to wash those stains off her sweater. Those were, after all, the worst slushy stains she had ever received, and even she, with her vast experience in scrubbing off slushy stains, had had trouble washing them off last night. Those on the beige elephant sweater she was now wearing had been particularly stubborn, she recalled, since that was the third and therefore most slushied sweater she had worn on Thursday. But despite her protests last night, her mom had sent her straight to bed when she found her washing her clothes, and although Rachel had worriedly stayed up for at least 45 minutes listening to her mom's scrubbing sounds from the kitchen, sleep had eventually won over. When she woke up in the morning, all her clothes were magically clean again, not a smudge or stain in sight.

How was she ever going to repay her mom for everything she was doing for her? Shelby insisted all she needed to do for her was to rest well and look after herself, to take her medications, take care of the dressings, and allow her body to heal properly, which sounded absolutely ridiculous, because that was something you did for yourself, not for someone else. But it was kind of true that Rachel wouldn't be doing all these things if not for her mom, she wouldn't be eating so much and resting all the time. Absurd though it may be, if that was all her mom asked of her, she promised herself she would do everything in her powers to obey, even if it caused her to turn fat in the process. Anyway, weight gained could be lost later when she could start dancing and exercising again. Dad would make certain she lost all of it anyway, and his methods of weight control had always been effective.

The universe seemed to be smiling on her too, helping her to obey the nurses' (and therefore her mom's) orders to keep the bandages clean and dry by sending her the most unlikely rescuer of all – Quinn. Never in a million years would she have dreamt up that exchange they'd just had this morning before school. She wondered what had come over the popular Cheerio. Calling off the slushies was amazing enough in and of itself, although calling them off _forever_ was beyond her wildest dreams. She wondered if it would really hold true for the next 3 years but Rachel would be happy and very thankful as long as she did not receive any slushies for the next week.

Her orders regarding the slushies made sense in a way, she supposed. Only half of the 212 slushies she had ordered for Rachel on Thursday had been delivered, but maybe Quinn didn't know that and felt bad about having ordered so many slushies for Rachel, thinking she'd reached some sort of slushy quota with Rachel.

No, what was most shocking was her behaviour _after_ she had threatened the boys and scared them off. She hadn't exactly apologized but she'd done something even more astonishing – offered to let Rachel slushy her back! No one slushied a Cheerio, not if you didn't want all their jock boyfriends beating you up. And most definitely, no one would dare to even _dream_ about slushying Head Cheerio Quinn Fabray. It simply wasn't done.

But Quinn had acted so strangely and after Rachel had refused, their conversation had almost been amicable. She smiled at the memory, maybe there was hope after all, for them to become friends one day. It would certainly make her high school life a lot easier. But it was more than that, she really wanted to make some friends in school, she was tired of being alone all the time. She had thought that she was kind of friends with her teammates in Glee but apparently that wasn't the case, everyone else in Glee still shunned her like the plague, and the slushies on Thursday had been the final proof literally shoved into her face.

Even among the other members, Glee club was still sharply divided into jocks, Cheerios and the original Gleeks. Maybe this would be the start of everyone eventually becoming friends? If Quinn and herself, the worst enemies in the club/school, could settle their differences, then anything was possible, right?

Honestly, she just admired Quinn and wanted to befriend her. If there was one girl in the school she wanted to be like, it was Quinn. But even if it hadn't been Quinn, just having someone stand up for her, and speak to her like she was almost a friend would have made her day. So really, you couldn't blame her for taking such great pleasure in playing the morning's conversation in her head over and over again, savouring the memory of every little detail of it and grinning like an idiot.

Plus she was still totally clean and slushy-free. Just as the school had unquestioningly obeyed Quinn's order to slushy her en masse on Thursday, she was pretty sure no one would dare disobey her now that she had called off the slushies. She recalled the poem she'd overheard the juniors quoting while she was hiding in the toilet. She would admit the meaning was quite fitting in that Quinn's orders were very much like those of an army general's – to be obeyed immediately without dissent or protest – but seriously, what a misuse of such a majestic and tragic poem of courage and honor. She doubted the gossiping juniors could appreciate the valour of the cavalry in carrying out their orders when they were themselves just cowards, blindly following whatever Quinn ordered for fear of consequences on themselves.

Old habits die hard though, and she had still tried to avoid the corridors and other public places the entire day. It was for the same reason that she was enjoying her lunch in the choir room rather than the cafeteria. Not that she often frequented the cafeteria in the past, even on the rare occasion when she had lunch to eat. It was too awkward sitting alone at a table with 8 seats, having her schoolmates who hadn't found a seat yet stare at her "wasting" so many seats but themselves unwilling to sit with her either, for fear of being shunned themselves. Maybe now that Quinn had called off the slushies, the animosity and shunning from the rest of the school might stop too, since Quinn was the main instigator in the first place. But as much as she hated being alone, she wasn't going to risk anything until the week was over and she could risk the slushies returning without incurring the wrath of the hospital nurses and her mom.

At least the rest of today should be easy enough. She had Glee after lunch, then after Glee, all she needed to do was get to the principal's office without being slushied. She groaned inside as she remembered her meeting with the principal after Glee, a meeting to meet not just her mom, but Principal Figgins, and the two boys that had beat her up on Thursday, Karofsky and Adams as well. She hadn't seen them since she blacked out on Thursday and she certainly wasn't looking forward to meeting them with her mom. It was great and all that Shelby was siding with her and thought that the boys were the ones who had started the fight since they had started teasing her first, but that was just what moms did, right – side with their children? As heartwarming a thought as that was, the two boys were definitely not going to be happy with her after this "talk".

She packed her lunch away just as Mr Schuester walked in and checked her watch. It was one already, he was right on time but it was rare for _all_ the members of Glee club to be late for practice. She hmph-ed to herself, readying a speech in her head on the importance of punctuality to rehearsals if they wanted to win at Sectionals next month.

...

"You're late," Quinn hissed at the Glee boys walking towards her. "What were you guys doing?"

"Chill, Quinn," Finn replied for them, checking his watch. "It's just 3 minutes. We were busy taking care of some business with Karofsky, making sure he knows what he did on Thursday was wrong and ensuring he'll toe the line from now on."

"What did you guys do? You didn't beat him up, did you?" Quinn asked. She was actually more concerned for if her dad found out about her "perfect boyfriend" fighting in school than actual concern for Finn's safety. He looked fine, his knuckles weren't even bruised. Apparently, Rachel Berry was the only person foolish enough to get into a fight despite being heavily outnumbered, even Karofsky wouldn't dare try anything when up against 5 boys, 4 of whom also fellow football teammates.

"Nope, that's what I was there for, to keep a lookout and make sure they didn't do anything they would regret," Artie reassured as he rolled up from behind. "They didn't hurt him, just threatened him. Puck almost landed a punch they got this close to hitting him," he added, demonstrating an inch with his thumb and index finger, "He whimpered like a baby, and was definitely very scared, but no one hurt a strand of hair on his head."

Kurt listened as he stood with the rest of the girls, and he couldn't help but feel slightly hurt. He wouldn't have wanted to get into a fight and probably would have said no if Puck or Finn had asked him to join them, but it would have been nice to have been included in what was apparently an all-Glee-guys activity. It hurt that he had not even been asked, not even to help 'lookout' and keep the other boys in line like Artie had said he was doing. Was he jealous? Maybe, but could you blame him? Apparently, even a wheelchair-bound boy was considered more of a guy than he could ever hope to be.

No one, however, noticed his unhappiness. Their eyes were focused on Quinn and the boys. Did she approve of what they had done on Rachel's behalf? Everyone had heard about Quinn defending Rachel against the slushies this morning and although Quinn had shared last Friday that she intended to apologise to Rachel for the slushies, no one knew exactly what kind of relationship the two girls would now have. Especially since her boyfriend Finn was one of the boys who had defended Quinn's once-nemesis.

"Good," Quinn affirmed, smirking at the thought of the 300-pound footballer whimpering like a baby. He deserved it. "Let's do this."

...

Rachel stared curiously as the door to the choir room opened and all the other eleven members filed in. Had there been a meeting she hadn't been invited to? Her surprise was magnified when her teammates did not sit down at their usual seats but took up obviously pre-determined places in front of her. Finn sat at the drums, Puck, Matt and Artie picked up guitars, while Mike, Kurt and the other four girls stood in the centre of the choir room.

A microphone was shoved into Quinn's hands, and she stepped forward holding the microphone to her mouth as though to say something. However, she faltered at the last moment and motioned, instead, for the 'band' to start the percussion music.

**Quinn:**  
I watched the proverbial sunrise  
Coming up over the Pacific and  
You might think I'm losing my mind,  
But I will shy away from the specifics…

'cause I don't want you to know where I am  
'cause then you'll see my heart  
In the saddest state it's ever been  
This is no place to try and live my life

**Quinn with New Directions:**  
Stop right there. That's exactly where I lost it  
See that line. Well I never should have crossed it  
Stop right there. Well I never should have said that  
It's the very moment that I wish that I could take back

I'm sorry for the person I became  
I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change  
I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again  
'cause who I am hates who I've been  
Who I am hates who I've been

**Quinn:**  
I talk to absolutely no one  
Couldn't keep to myself enough  
And the things bottled inside have finally begun  
To create so much pressure that I'll soon blow up

I heard the reverberating footsteps  
Synching up to the beating of my heart  
And I was positive that unless I got myself together  
I would watch me fall apart

**Quinn with Girls:**  
And I can't let that happen again  
'cause then you'll see my heart  
In the saddest state it's ever been

**Quinn:**  
This is no place to try and live my life.

Stop right there. That's exactly where I lost it  
See that line. Well I never should have crossed it  
Stop right there. Well I never should have said that  
It's the very moment that I wish that I could take back

**Quinn with Boys:**  
Stop right there. That's exactly where I lost it  
See that line. Well I never should have crossed it  
Stop right there. Well I never should have said that  
It's the very moment that I wish that I could take back

**Quinn with New Directions:**  
I'm sorry for the person I became.  
I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change  
I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again  
'cause who I am hates who I've been  
Who I am hates who I've been

**Quinn:**  
Who I am hates who I've been  
And who I am will take the second chance you gave me  
Who I am hates who I've been  
'cause who I've been only ever made me...

**Quinn with New Directions:**  
So sorry for the person I became  
So sorry that it took so long for me to change  
I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again  
'cause who I am hates who I've been  
Who I am hates who I've been

Rachel stared transfixed, as Quinn led her teammates to perform a song that was clearly meant as an apology to her. It was a difficult genre, a fast-paced song sung by an all-male rock band that Rachel herself would have had some trouble singing, much less Quinn's much sweeter and more feminine voice. The performance was in no way flawless but Quinn was doing an admirable job and Rachel could not help but greedily look from left to right, eyes widened to take in as much of everyone's performance as possible. She almost wanted to jump in and join them but she just barely restrained herself from doing so.

No one had ever sung her a song like this before. It was touching to say the least, that the club she loved knew her well enough to recognise that she would appreciate their meaning and feelings expressed via song much more than if they merely said sorry to her. Moreover, it meant so much to her that they would prepare a number – any number – on their own, without her help or input. She often felt like she was the only one who really cared about the club, who gave thought to the numbers they should do or songs that would suit their mix of voices. Sure, Brittany, Santana, Michael and Matthew were much better at choreography and were usually willing to help with that when asked, but she often felt like she had to cajole and push the club along to get them to move and do anything. Even when singing together during rehearsal, she was pretty sure at any one time, half the club were just moving their lips voicelessly. This was the first time any of them had shown any kind of initiative towards performing at Glee club and she was absolutely thrilled.

It was certainly different sitting on the other side of the stage, watching her teammates all performing without her. But it was definitely interesting, and from where she was sitting, she was suddenly noticing so much about her teammates that she couldn't wait to share her comments with them. They were not as fortunate as herself to receive her extensive training in multiple forms of performing arts, and it was her duty as captain of the club to guide them along. Maybe this way, taking a backseat for two weeks wouldn't be so bad. She could spend more time observing her fellow teammates and helping them improve their techniques. For Glee club to continue, they needed to place at Regionals, and for them to even get to Regionals, every single member of the club needed to be in top form to give them their best chance at winning at Sectionals, especially if she wasn't going to be at her best.

The song ended, the last few strains of the guitar still lingering in the air, and Rachel jumped out of her seat, clapping enthusiastically.

"That was awesome!" she exclaimed to the group. She turned to Quinn and smiled. "Wow, I never thought I'd ever hear you rap, Quinn, even if it is _Christian_ rap. Not really a genre that suits you but that was still a great attempt nonetheless."

The rest of the club laughed at such a 'Rachel' comment and Quinn fixed a glare at her. "You get that I'm saying sorry about last Thursday, right?"

Rachel nodded, still smiling. "Yes, and thank you, it really means a lot to me."

She looked around the room and her smile widened into a grin, "That was really good, guys! The percussion was excellent, and Artie, rap really suits you, you should try more of it. Michael, I believe this is the first time I'm hearing you sing and your voice is actually not bad. You should sing more and train your voice further, your deeper voice would add a different texture to our singing during group numbers. You dance really well but we need your voice too. Tina, you sang that entire song, including the fast rap parts with very clear diction without any fumbling which lends me to believe that your stuttering is a result of anxiety and lack of confidence rather than an actual physical impairment. I could help you with that if you want. Santana…"

"Uh-uh, that's enough, Berry. Just say thank you for the song, sit your ass down and stop babbling," Santana snapped, cutting off her excited ramble.

Rachel shut up immediately and hung her head, her face coloured bright red. She murmured a soft "thank you" and sat back down at her seat. She had thought the song of apology would mean a decrease in animosity but apparently that was too much to ask. Of course everyone still hated her and found her annoying, the song had just been to assuage their guilt over last Thursday's slushies then they could go right back to hating her once more.

Quinn took pity on her and intervened. "What Santana means to say, is that such personal comments might be better given to us one-to-one _after_ Glee club is over, rather than embarassing people in front of everyone."

Rachel smiled weakly and nodded at Quinn. "Thank you for your advice, Quinn. I understand and appreciate it, and will take that into consideration when I give comments in future."

"So are you okay now, Rachel? I heard you got beaten up pretty badly on Thursday, ended up in hospital and can't dance for a couple of weeks," Artie asked, changing the topic.

Rachel looked around to see that everyone was nodding their heads in agreement and waiting for her reply. No one looked surprised. Just as she'd thought, gossip spreads faster than germs in this school. She stood back up and turned to face everyone but not before giving Mr Schuester a meaningful glare.

"Somehow or other, everyone seems to have found out that I am under doctor's orders to stay off dancing for the next two weeks. I apologise for the inconvenience this will cause everyone, and I promise I'll catch up with our routine for Sectionals in time for the competition and won't drag everyone down," she announced.

Quinn frowned and tuned out the rest of Rachel's speech as she ranted on about how they had to work hard and win Sectionals. Rachel hadn't exactly said who had hurt her enough to cause her to have to stay off dancing "under doctor's orders". That little speech didn't answer any of her questions about her fathers and the CPS charges her father had mentioned, and she resolved to speak to Rachel after Glee to find out more.

…

"Rachel!" Quinn called out after Rachel's retreating back. "Wait up!"

Rachel turned around. "How may I help you, Quinn?" She looked anxiously at her teammates who were leaving the choir room together. She still had half an hour to go before she had to meet her mom but she had hoped to get to the principal's office by walking with the other Glee kids, so hopefully they might offer her some protection in case someone tried to slushy her, or if Karofsky and Adams tried to confront her before the meeting to threaten her into silence.

"Listen, I heard something about your fathers, that you were removed from their custody by Child Protective Services due to 'inadequate care' with some allegations of child abuse. Is that true?"

Rachel startled. "How did you know about that?" she demanded.

"Doesn't matter," Quinn said, shaking her head. "Are those allegations true? I thought you're always going on and on about how much your fathers love you and pamper you with everything you want?"

"Of course my fathers do not abuse me!" Rachel defended stoutly. "They love me very much and all this is a big mistake. This is just yet another example of senseless homophobia being allowed to run rampant even among supposedly secular and impartial authorities," she added, taking a jibe at Quinn's oft-repeated religiously-based accusations of her fathers. "I have only been temporarily removed from their care while they are investigating matters, and I'm certain they'll come out clean. Thank you for your concern, Quinn. I have no doubt it'll be cleared up in no time."

Quinn smiled. She had challenged Rachel's previous words on purpose knowing it would anger her into a long rant that would reveal what she wanted to know, and she'd just been proven right. Before she could reply, however, Mercedes, who had hung back to ask Mr Schuester a question, intercepted.

"Temporarily removed from their care?" she asked, clearly only having heard the second half of Rachel's speech. "Whose care, your fathers? Who are you staying with now? Do you need someone to live with?"

Rachel startled at Mercedes' interruption, she didn't want too many people to know about her family's affairs, since her fathers liked to keep these things quiet. "Family," she answered simply, unsure of how much her mother wanted her to tell her friends. "I'm fine where I am now but thank you for your kind offer."

Mercedes nodded and smiled, and Rachel's heard wanted to sing with joy. With the exception of Santana's previous criticism, that on second thoughts was rather accurate and probably well-deserved, everyone was being so nice to her, talking to her as though she was a friend and even offering her a place to stay! She wanted to say something nice in return but wasn't sure what. She certainly hadn't had much practice talking to friends outside of schoolwork and Glee. What did Mercedes and herself have in common except that they were both the divas of Glee club?

"Feel free to enjoy your solos for now," she finally said, and looked up to check if Mercedes was offended. Mercedes was smiling, so she pressed on. "Because I'll be back stronger and better than ever, and take back all those solos after this 2-week break!"

Mercedes grinned. "You just rest easy because I'll most certainly be enjoying every second of those solos. And you're not going to take them back so easily when you get back."

"Bring it on," Rachel challenged, and both of them laughed.

The two girls walked out of the choir room together, laughing, and Quinn followed them, deep in thought, not really listening to their friendly – if slightly awkward – banter about who was the better singer, different genres of music besides Mr Schuester's usual "Journey" songs that they hoped they could try, and the songs they each hoped Glee club would do for Sectionals. She only half-listened when they started in on Quinn's attempt at rap and how much better the boys were at it. Her mind was more focused on what Rachel had said and trying to figure out what the truth hidden in her words was. Rachel's words were the same as she always used, but this time, it had lacked her usual conviction. Besides, everyone knew Rachel had no other family. It was an oft-repeated tale at Russell's dinner parties, how the Berries had both been kicked out of their families after they had come out of the closet and had moved to Lima to get away and 'start over'. It was often followed up by plots to kick the couple out of their town as well. What family could Rachel be living with?

She was so wrapped her in her thoughts that she didn't notice Coach Sylvester appear in front of them.

"Berry! In my office now! Quinn, you too!" Sue ordered, stalking back into her office without waiting to see if they obeyed her.

Rachel looked bewilderedly at Quinn who gave her a shrug. It wasn't unusual for Coach to shout her into her office at random times of the day, even when she was supposed to be having classes, but who knew what she wanted from Rachel? Even so, Coach always demanded prompt obedience, no matter how ridiculous her commands, so Quinn grabbed Rachel's hand and pulled her along into Coach's office.

Coach Sylvester was already standing behind her desk. "Sit down," she said, indicating the two chairs in front of her table. One of them had a red rectangular box sitting on it, one that Rachel did not recognize but Quinn did.

"Coach? Why are you giving me another set of uniforms? I already have enough."

"Not you, it's for Berry here," Coach replied, jabbing a finger in Rachel's direction. "I've decided she's going to be my new Cheerio. She's small and light enough to throw into the air and catch easily. Given her background in dancing, I have no doubt she'll be able to learn our routines in no time. You will teach her these routines, and brief her on our practice schedules and Cheerios rules. Make sure she understands that I do not tolerate tardiness."

Rachel's jaw had dropped at 'it's for Berry' and she stared at Coach in shock. She was the most unpopular kid in school, why would Coach ask her to be a Cheerio? It was only for the prettiest, most popular students. She looked at Quinn for help and found the blonde was staring at her with none of her previous friendliness. In fact, if looks could kill, she might be dead by now.

She looked back at Coach. "Umm…" she began, then paused, not knowing what to say. She was still trying to cope with the idea that Coach Sylvester had just invited her to join the Cheerios.

"If you want to be a Cheerio, you will have to learn to speak up!" Sue snapped in annoyance. Most girls, when presented with a set of the coveted uniform which represented an invitation to join the prestigious Cheerios, responded with great exuberance and excitement, with reactions ranging from jumping and squealing with jubilation to tears of joy. Even Quinn who definitely would have expected the invitation considering her father had donated a large sum of money to the Cheerios to watch his daughter at the Junior High Cheerleading Championships, had smiled and expressed the appropriate thankfulness.

Not this Glee girl, apparently. _Schuester's kids, UGH._ Although to be honest, she wasn't really inviting Rachel purely due to her minimal weight or dancing abilities. She hadn't been able to get the image of the small girl slumped on the floor against the lockers with the two large footballers towering over her out of her head, and Sue thought that maybe by accepting Rachel into the Cheerios, she wouldn't get bullied so much and she could make up for all the times when she had failed to defend her older sister from the school bullies who had just been too big for her to defeat.

Sue looked in the direction that Rachel had glanced at and saw Quinn's look of pure hatred, understanding almost immediately. "Quinn, as my _Captain_, will accept the decisions I make and do her best to help you assimilate. Won't you, Quinn?"

Quinn nodded sharply and schooled her features into a more neutral expression, although her eyes were still glaring icy cold daggers at Rachel. Had she not done enough today to be nice and apologise to Rachel? Why did she have to invade her precious Cheerios as well? Cheerleading was the one thing she knew she was better at than anyone in this crappy school, Rachel had no right to come in an invade that. And she knew for a fact, from the shocked look on Rachel's face that she didn't even want to be in the Cheerios, had never submitted a single application for it, and it just wasn't fair that she just seemed to get everything without having to fight for any of it. And with this invitation to Cheerios, plus now that Quinn had stopped the damn slushies, and gotten Glee club to apologise to her, Little Miss Broadway would have everything she could possibly want.

Rachel considered her next words carefully. It was a very tempting offer but one she knew she had to reject, and not just because her newfound 'friend' Quinn didn't want her to. The Cheerios uniform was too revealing, and much as most of her back and thighs were healing, there was still bruising and a few welts and blisters. And even after those healed, beneath those were old scars that would still be shown off to everyone in school if she dared to put on that skimpy uniform. But how was she to explain herself without insulting Coach and her Captain or revealing too much of herself and her family life to them?

"I apologise but I must decline your generous offer. I would like to focus on Glee club for now."

Coach gave her an incredulous look of outrage at making Cheerios second choice to Glee, and Rachel hurried to continue. "Besides, I believe the Cheerios uniform would _reveal_ too much of myself." She looked anxiously at Coach. She had been present in the nurse's office last Thursday, she had to get the hint, right?

Quinn looked between her coach and her long-time nemesis turned somewhat friend. There seemed to be a subtext behind their conversation that she was being excluded from. But as far as she knew, Coach Sylvester never spoke to Rachel except to ridicule her about Glee club. So what was going on between the two of them?

Sue Sylvester understood. She had only seen her lower back that day but it didn't take much imagination to infer that the same colourful carnage probably extended to other parts of her body that wouldn't be hidden by the revealing Cheerios uniform.

"Very well, you're dismissed. Quinn, stay behind."

Quinn sat up straighter in her chair, wondering if Rachel had just earned her another scolding from her Coach. She really was the bane of her existence.

"You stopped the hockey team from slushying her today," Sue stated. It wasn't a question.

Quinn nodded. "Yes, I did but let me explain…" she started but paused when Coach held up her hand.

"I approve. Continue to defend her and befriend her."

"But why? She's the captain of the Glee club, I thought you hated her?"

"I want her in my Cheerios squad, it's all part of my grand plans for Nationals. Now go, get out of my office. Remember, she's been invited to the Cheerios so she's one of the girls now, even if she hasn't accepted the invitation. Make sure the whole team knows."

"Yes Coach," Quinn replied.

_This is so unfair! Why is everyone suddenly being so nice to Rachel? Why does she get to have _everything_ and _everyone_?_

…

'Why is everyone suddenly being so nice to me?' Rachel wondered as she waited outside the principal's office for her mom. First her mom was taking such great care of her, wiping her down since she couldn't shower, washing her slushied clothes, preparing her breakfast, packing lunch for her, driving her to school… the list was endless. Then, Quinn defended her against the slushies and offered to allow her to slushy her back as a form of apology. Glee, led by Quinn, proceeded to perform her an awesome song, again to apologise for what happened on Thursday. Quinn spoke up for her against Santana, everyone showed concern for her, and Mercedes even talked to her like a friend after Glee. The weirdest of all, however, was when Coach Sylvester spoke to her in a civil manner, and even invited her to join the Cheerios!

Just like how everyone had been out to get her on Thursday, everyone seemed to be going out of their way to be nice to her today. She knew, in Mercedes' case, she was most probably only being nicer to her because she had just gotten all of Rachel's solos for the next 2 weeks but that was fine by her. Despite their weekly battles for the top spot, they both had mutual respect for each other's talents, and Rachel was glad that Mercedes, at least, cared enough to fight for the solos and was good enough to replace her these two weeks. Besides, she wasn't quite sure yet, what her mom's opinion and expectations of her singing would be, and until then, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to step out of the spotlight for awhile.

But everyone else was being weird, and it wasn't just the big things, it was also the little things, like Michael opening the door for her before AP Chemistry, Artie waving at her in the hallway, Tina smiling at her and stuttering out a "H-H-Hello"… Seriously, was everyone getting a daily memo about how they ought to treat her that she wasn't privy to?

Shelby walked towards the principal's office to find that her daughter was already there waiting for her. She was still wearing the same clothes that she had left the house with this morning, which meant she hadn't been slushied today. Good. She certainly didn't want to be scrubbing slushy stains out of those thick and very absorbent sweaters every single night.

"How was your day?" Shelby asked, reaching out to place a hand around Rachel's shoulders. Rachel was tense and deep in thought, and Shelby wondered if something bad had happened.

Rachel spun around to face her mom and was immediately beaming. "Hi, Mom!" she greeted. "I had a fantastic day! Everyone has been wonderful to me."

"That's great, honey," Shelby replied, relieved, She raised her hand to smooth down Rachel's hair lightly and smiled at her daughter's happiness.

Rachel leaned in to her mom's touch eagerly, putting aside, for the moment, her confusion at the day's bizarre events and her worries about the impending meeting with Principal Figgins to focus on her mom's affectionate gesture. This was officially the best day of her life!

**Disclaimer: "Who I am Hates Who I've Been" by Relient K does not belong to me. **


	16. Please, God

Ajunebuga – Thanks, Rachel will have more happy chapters now that she's rescued, but it won't all be happy times along her road to recovery.

beverlie4055 – Thanks, glad you liked it.

pcall006 – Haha, yeah, I thought the song fit very well too, with a lot of hidden meaning for Quinn that Rachel wouldn't know about but it would still mean a lot for Quinn when she sang it. That's why I let Quinn sing it even though it doesn't really fit her usual feminine genres. I PM-ed you to explain some things about Quinn, but I hope this chapter satisfies you and answers some of your questions, makes Quinn's responses a little more realistic? Nope, you haven't offended me, I'm very thankful for constructive criticisms, keep them coming please! They really help me to improve my writing.

Valerii. FaberryFan – Thanks! Yup, it was fun to write _someone_ being nice to Rachel. All that Rachel-bashing was getting a little depressing to write, haha.

Guest – Thanks! Nothing much happens in this chapter, but I hope it gives you a hint of what is to come.

BellaDora Soulmates – It'll happen eventually but not quite yet. Glad you're looking forward to it! Yup, I love writing softy Sue, because it's so rare. Love her soft spot for her sis (and therefore Rachel) but she's going to remain pretty much in character, e.g. still hates Schuester, haha.

Shana – Glad you're looking forward to her rescue! It'll come, but yes, it's been difficult to write and taking a long time to come, because incest and sexual abuse is so much harder to detect than physical. I'm glad you can see that while she's angry and quite a bully, but she isn't a bad person and just needs some good parenting. A lot of good parenting. Which she'll get, because I have no idea how to write about American foster care system, haha. From what I've heard about the system, it is thoroughly inadequate in taking care of such complicated issues, anyway.

Janie – Thank you! I'm glad I've touched you, it really means a lot to me.

Chapter 15. Please, God.

Rachel emerged from Principal Figgin's office with an even more confused look on her face. She supposed she should be happy, but this 'Be Nice To Berry' day was getting a little too absurd. Maybe she was dreaming? She pinched herself. Ouch! Okay, maybe not.

Her mom being kind to her was reasonable. Quinn and her teammates being extra nice to her because she/they felt guilty about Thursday was logical too, if unprecedented. Even Coach Sylvester being civil with her could be explained by her feeling sorry for her because of what she had seen of her back that day, what she perceived to be child abuse. But David Karofsky? Azimio Adams, at least, had stayed in character and had been absolutely furious with his partner-in-crime when Karofsky confessed to their excessive teasing and over-reacting to her slap, without any threats or lectures from the principal or her mother. In contrast with Karofsky, who had appeared to be quite nervous and had even begged her afterwards to "let Puck know I apologized to you". Was he _that_ intimidated by her mom? And what did Noah have to do with any of this anyway?

At least Principal Figgins had cleared the suspension from her school records. He had given her a choice between that and suspending the two other boys as well to 'make things fair'. It was quite a ridiculous idea, something quite typical of this idiot of a principal but she had taken up the offer quite gladly. Anyway, she saw no need in getting the boys suspended as well, a suspension might hurt their chances at a football scholarship and wouldn't in any way make things right for her. Now, her school records were back to their original pristine state and she vowed to keep them that way. She had a medical certificate to cover last Friday's absence from school, so that was alright too. She smiled at how somehow, everything that had happened on Thursday had now really been made okay, or even better.

Everything except her fathers. She checked her cellphone once more and sighed. She wondered what they were doing now, who was looking after the house now that she wasn't there to clean things up. Were they in a lot of trouble with the law? Were they terribly angry with her? Were they getting support from their friends and did their friends believe the charges were true? Would they understand that she really hadn't meant to screw things up for them? Did they know that even though she now had a mom, she still loved them and would do anything for them?

Did they miss her too?

From the driver's seat, Shelby looked across to the passenger's seat at her frowning daughter and wondered what she was thinking about. The meeting with the principal had gone better than she had expected. The man was disgusting enough, smarmy, spineless, cowardly and obviously a major ass-kisser but the boys had confessed quite quickly and she hadn't had to pull a Coach Corcoran on them to get them to take some responsibility for their role in the fight on Thursday.

The slushies had been another thing, though. Principal Figgins had admitted that he knew the students sometimes threw slushies at each other but being such a prevalent activity, he had never campaigned against the practice, claiming he preferred slushies to violence. Shelby tightened her grip around her steering wheel. Seriously, how did such a negligent idiot become the principal? She had almost started lecturing him sternly but Rachel had interrupted at that moment to say that everything was fine now, she had settled the issue with the main instigator and it wouldn't happen again, 'so please drop it, M_om_'. She'd acquiesced to her daughter's request after that – seriously, she needed to stop being so affected by that one simple yet oh so magical word – as long as she truly didn't get slushied again.

"Where are we headed, Mom?" Rachel finally asked. She had noticed for the last couple of minutes that they weren't going towards their new home so she was curious as to where they were really going.

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you. We're going to get you some clothes."

Rachel looked quizzically at her mom. "But we aren't driving in the direction of my fathers' home either."

"I contacted Sharon this morning," Shelby continued. "She said that since we are still not allowed to contact or meet your fathers, she'll obtain some of your clothes from your fathers and bring it over to you. However, it might take awhile for her to contact them and arrange to get those clothes, so I'll buy you a few more sets to tide you over."

"Oh. So where are we going?" Rachel asked.

"The mall, of course. Where else could we get clothes from?"

"You don't have to!" Rachel protested. "I have enough clothes for now, especially if the slushies are going to stop. Please, you don't have to buy me any more clothes."

"Nonsense. At the very least, you need more clothes for school, as well as a comfortable set of pajamas for you to sleep in."

"I really don't need new clothes. I'm not sure Daddy will be able to pay you back for them. The clothes I have now are fine and more than sufficient, really."

Thankfully, Shelby was already at the mall's carpark. She quickly parked the car and turned to face Rachel so she could focus on her next words to her.

"Listen, Rachel. I'm your mom. It's my duty to provide you with the basic necessities like clothes, food and transport. _I_ am buying you these clothes, your fathers won't have to pay me a cent."

"You don't have to…"

Shelby raised her hand to silence Rachel's protests. "Please don't tell me I don't have to, because I _want _to. I want to dress my daughter up in pretty clothes, and I want to look after you and provide you with everything you need, okay?"

"But you've already done so much for me. How would I ever be able to repay you?"

"There's no such thing as you having to repay me," Shelby told her firmly. "All I ask of you is for you to allow me to look after you. And I haven't done that much for you, I even forgot about your lack of clothes and had to find you washing your clothes in the middle of the night for me to be reminded of it. I should have taken you out shopping over the weekend after you were discharged rather than bringing you out today after school. You've finished all your homework that's due tomorrow, right?" she confirmed.

Rachel nodded with a smile, her fathers had never asked her about homework before, nor cared that she might need time at home to do them. That her mom cared about little things like that warmed her heart all over again.

"Yup, I have. Not just all the work that's due tomorrow, I've finished all the assigned schoolwork for the next week as well." Shelby smiled at her daughter's diligence, while Rachel tried to wrap her head around what everything else her mom had said. She frowned. Was her mom blaming herself for her clothing situation?

"It's not your fault," she protested. "And you've _really_ done so much for me. Like speaking up for me to Principal Figgins. And preparing me lunches and protein shakes…"

"Did you finish both at lunch today?"

"Yes, Mom."

Shelby smiled. "That's good. You need to take good care of yourself too, alright? And that includes making sure you have decent, presentable clothes to wear as well, so come on, let's go to the mall now before the sky darkens."

…

Shelby wanted to pull her hair out in frustration. Every shop they walked into, Rachel wandered off to the 'Discount' and 'Clearance sale' shelves, checking the price tags of every piece of clothing she picked up. Despite numerous reassurances that money was not an issue. Rachel claimed it was because the clearance racks had many of the XXS sizes that would fit someone of her small stature but from the way she kept checking the price tags, it was obvious that she was more concerned about the prices than the sizes.

"Here, try on this pair of jeans," Shelby suggested when she just couldn't take it anymore. She handed over a pair of Levi's jeans that were in the latest fashion. And size XXS, of course.

Rachel frowned at it and Shelby sighed. "All 4 of your bottoms are skirts, so I thought you might prefer some jeans, they would hide the marks better," she explained.

"They're fine if I walk properly," Rachel insisted. "Are they showing?"

_You shouldn't have to_, Shelby thought but did not voice it out. She didn't want to start a conversation about such a serious topic, which she assumed Rachel would want to keep a secret, in such a public place. "No they aren't, but still. Try these on. Let me see how you look in them."

Rachel hesitated. "Dad says jeans and pants are not for girls. They aren't ladylike. Girls should wear skirts and dresses."

"Ahem. _I_ am wearing pants."

"I'm sorry!" Rachel yelped, taking an involuntary step backwards. "I didn't mean to insinuate that you're not a lady. I mean you're obviously very beautiful and elegant and very much a woman," Rachel said, looking at her mom's fantastic figure that was currently outlined in a fitting blouse and black slacks, before dropping her gaze down to her own shoes. Her mom would still look like a lady even if she wore a sackcloth but Rachel wasn't like her. She was the girl they called RuPaul, Tranny and Treasure Trail, she had to wear female clothes that emphasised her female gender, otherwise she might really be mistaken for a guy.

Shelby almost choked on the rambling compliment her daughter had just given her so nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it. What I meant was… Remember what I told you in the hospital about thinking for yourself, hearing me out and not accepting everything your fathers told you? I'm a woman and I do believe that means I have a much better understanding of gender-appropriate attire for females as compared to your fathers. Why don't you just try them on and decide for yourself whether you look good or not?"

Rachel finally accepted it and went to the changing rooms to try it on.

Wow, she thought as she studied her reflection in the mirror. Her mom was right, these skinny jeans really accentuated the few curves she had, and made her legs longer than she had ever seen them. It was a little loose at the hips, but that worked out for her since it meant the bumps made by the bandages couldn't be seen. She bet even Santana would have nothing bad to say if she went to school tomorrow in this.

She was about to step out of the changing room to show it to her mom when a sudden thought came to her. Something that looked this good couldn't possibly come cheap. She checked the price tag and bit back a scream. $54! That was like, the cost of all 4 of her sweaters put together. She couldn't possibly expect her mom to spend so much money on her! She quickly changed out of the jeans, being very careful not to dirty or damage it in any way.

Shelby watched as Rachel stepped out of the changing room in her former clothes, although the jeans looked slightly crumpled, indicating that she had at least tried them on.

"You didn't like them?" Shelby asked.

"I did," Rachel answered without thinking, before clamping her mouth shut. It would have been much easier to reject her mom's kind offer if she had lied that she didn't like it.

"Is it the wrong size then? I'm sorry, it's my first time buying clothes for you. Do you need it bigger or smaller?"

"It's fine, mom, it's the correct size but..."

"Are you worried about it being too expensive?" Shelby guessed.

Rachel nodded. Her mom thought so too? Then why was she being so mean as to ask her to try such an awesome pair of jeans if she also thought it was too expensive, she wondered with a scowl.

Shelby smiled, shaking her head, wondering if Rachel knew how much her expressive little face kept telling her without her having to say a word. "I'm not worried about the cost. I know _you_ are but _I_ think it's perfectly reasonably priced. And since I'm paying for your purchases today, I'd advise you to stop worrying so much and take full advantage of my credit card. If this pair fits and you like it, we'll take it. Unless there's something else you want to try?"

Rachel could only shake her head no and mumble "Thanks". She had never really had much of an opinion on the clothes she wore anyway, she usually just allowed her fathers to pick most of her clothes for her. She supposed it would be the same with her mom and although her mom's lack of concern for the cost of her clothes would take some getting used to, going by this awesome pair of jeans, it was probably going to be no hardship to wear the clothes she picked for her.

"Let's find you a nice shirt to match these jeans," Shelby suggested, and Rachel nodded obediently, padding along behind her with a big smile on her face.

...

"Thank you for letting me select your clothes today, Rachel," Shelby said.

They were both in Rachel's room, Shelby sitting on her bed as Rachel put away the newly bought clothes. To match the jeans, Shelby had gotten her three polo shirts, all in ladies cut. Three, because she claimed she couldn't decide which colours suited Rachel better, light blue, light green or pink. And then in deference to Rachel's preference for more feminine attire, she also bought her two more dresses and a skirt. The baby pink pajamas were much easier to buy and Rachel fingered the soft cotton lovingly before patting down the clothes and shutting the door to her wardrobe.

"You're welcome, Mom," Rachel replied, turning back to face her mom, although her tone made it sound more like a question than a statement. "Thank you for buying all these clothes for me," she said with more certainty.

"The pleasure was all mine, honey." Shelby told her sincerely. "I think all mothers dream of dressing up their daughters in pretty clothes, and I'm no exception. I know I dreamed about dressing you up in cute little rompers ever since I conceived you, even though I knew you wouldn't really be mine. I never expected to be able to do this for you – buy you clothes and dress you up –, since when the contract ended, you would have been 18. Even now, you're almost 15 and surely have different teenage fashion tastes from me, but I'm very thankful you still allowed me to pick out clothes for you. You'll wear them tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," Rachel agreed easily, more interested in the first part of her mom's speech. "You wanted to dress me up when I was a baby?"

"Oh yes, most certainly." Shelby patted the bed beside her, indicating that Rachel should sit down too. She tucked a strand of hair behind Rachel's ear before continuing. "Even when I was in New York, I never stopped thinking of you all these years, wondering how you were, what you looked like. Some days, I would walk through the malls alone and pick out various clothes to dress up an imaginary you in my head." A lonesome tear rolled down her cheek slowly at the memory.

"Why didn't you ever come to visit us, if you missed me so much?"

"When I agreed to surrogate for your fathers, I signed a contract with them that said I wouldn't, until you turned eighteen. Later, when you were nine or ten, I missed you so much that I contacted them to see if they would allow me to see you, or at least, write to you, but they refused, saying that you had gotten used to having two fathers and introducing me at that time would just have confused you. We agreed that when you turned eighteen, I would write to you about who I was and let you decide whether or not you wanted to meet me. But I never stopped missing you, and counting down the days till you turned eighteen."

Rachel's tears joined her mom's, except that they flowed a lot more freely, as she heard her mom talk about how much she had wanted to meet her.

"You know, I missed you so much that a few years back I tried to have a baby. It was after your fathers refused me access to you. That was around the same time as when I started to realize I was never going to make it anywhere on Broadway. I started thinking about my other dreams, like starting a family, thinking about you, about not having been able to raise you… I wanted to have my own baby and raise her instead."

"Did you?" Rachel asked curiously.

"No, I tried but I couldn't."

"You could keep trying. If you have more children, I could help you look after them." Rachel looked at her mom worriedly. Why had her mom brought up wanting a baby? Did her mom mean she didn't want her, a teenage daughter, but she wanted an infant instead, one she could dress up and raise as her own?

Shelby smiled, although her single tear had by now turned into streams. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and patted Rachel's lap. "I may not have expected to get to take care of a 15-year-old you when I signed the contract with your fathers and left my number as an emergency contact, but I'm very happy with you. I couldn't ask for a better daughter." She moved to get up to go downstairs to prepare dinner. "Besides, I can't have any more children."

"Why?"

"The doctor said it was a complication with my first pregnancy," Shelby explained shortly, hoping Rachel would let that line of questioning go. The two years she had spent seeing numerous IVF specialists had been one of the most depressing times of her life, it had taken her a long time to accept that she could never bear another child again, and she would much rather leave all that in the past.

No such luck.

"Your first pregnancy when you had me? _I_ caused this?" Rachel asked, moving back a little, in fear or in shock, Shelby couldn't tell.

Shelby sighed – Was _that_ what Rachel was choosing to focus on? "No, honey, you didn't. _I_ had some complications and needed to deliver you by Cesearean section. There were some technical difficulties during that surgery, and after that, some post-op complications. I recovered well and thought all was fine then but the IVF doctors I saw all told me that future implantation is not possible."

Rachel didn't really understand much about Obstetrics and Gynaecology but she understood enough to follow that the surgery her mom had had to undergo to deliver her had resulted in her no longer being able to have her own children. Despite her mom's denials, she knew the truth. Her mom had used her one chance at having a baby on her and was now stuck with her. The look of anguish on her mom's face pained her, and knowing she was the one who had caused it was just unbearable.

"I'm sorry," she cried, leaning forward to hug her. "I'm sorry."

Shelby wrapped her arms around Rachel. She wasn't sure whether it was to comfort her or comfort herself. "It's okay, Rachel. I'm okay. I may have been upset then but that was because I didn't have you. But I have you now. You're all I need, you're my daughter and you're all I need."

...

Quinn drove home, her heart lighter than usual at the thought of her father's absence from home for the next four days. The memory of his crazy eyes and the brief but terribly painful belting he had dished out to her last night was still fresh in her mind but she squashed it down viciously. She had four days of freedom from her father's tyrannical rule and she wasn't going to waste them being haunted by thoughts and memories of him.

Her thoughts turned to Rachel, her once-nemesis turned – whatever the hell she was now.

Under normal circumstances, whenever her father did horrible things to her at night, she would take great pleasure in making fun of Rachel the next day. Humiliating the smaller girl just because she could would help her feel just that little bit better, make her feel powerful and in control again. That her father approved of the bullying was just icing on the cake.

But she hadn't done that today. After last night's beating, she had come to school and done the complete opposite. She had done what was right, apologised to Rachel for Thursday, called off the slushies, tried to be nice and civil to her, even sung a song to her! And not just herself, she had gathered the rest of Glee club to perform the song of apology with her, and allowed others to be nice to her as well, without shunning them. Hell, she had even given her boyfriend approval to threaten Karofsky on Rachel's behalf.

Come to think of it, today was her first time apologizing properly to someone who wasn't already a friend, and she thought she had done it quite well. From the beaming little face Rachel had been giving everyone all day, yes, she had done quite a good job.

Too good a job, it seemed. Now it wasn't just her, everyone was going out of their way to befriend the diva! It was almost infuriating. Usually, they were mean to her, shunned her on Quinn's orders, in fear of repercussions on themselves. Well, everyone except Coach Sylvester who didn't need any more reason to hate Rachel other than that she was captain of her arch-enemy's Glee club. But today, everyone was being nice to her, the boys standing up to Karofsky for her, like she was some damsel in distress, Mercedes being friendly with her, just hours after Quinn lifted the bullying order on Rachel. And then now, the last straw – she even has Coach's approval and invitation to join the Cheerios! If Rachel had said yes, would she have replaced Quinn on top of the pyramid soon? She was definitely, by far, the smallest, lightest girl in school. UGH!

It just wasn't fair, how did she get everything so effortlessly? Everything that Quinn had fought so hard to achieve, and now, even in the two areas she knew she was superior to Rachel in – cheerleading and popularity, Rachel was quickly overpowering her. Those were her territory, she was not allowed to just waltz in and snatch them away from her! Was she going to steal Finn and become Prom Queen too? Not that she cared much for Finn, he was a decent guy who did not pressure her for sex, and was a popular footballer and her ticket to Prom Queen, but the most important thing about him was that he was the boyfriend her father had ordered her to have.

Speaking of her father, if he found out about Rachel's newfound popularity and how Quinn had negated years of bullying in one day, she was going to be so dead. The look of pride on his face on Thursday when she told him about the slushies and fighting... Damn it! If he found out, he would without a doubt make her deeply regret choosing her conscience over obedience to him.

Was Quinn's bullying order the only obstacle that had prevented Rachel from getting friends and popularity in the first place, she wondered bitterly. Now, even if Quinn wanted to, she couldn't go back to bullying the midget anymore, what with Coach's orders to treat her as 'one of the girls'. She had seemed to really want Rachel in the Cheerios, which made it odd that she hadn't pressed on harder to 'get' Rachel when she was turned down. No one said no to an invitation to join the Cheerios, and Coach had obviously been upset to be turned down by the most unpopular girl in school, and to be chosen over the loser Glee club she detested at that. Usually, what Coach wanted, she got, and if she didn't get it, she would turn the world upside down until she knocked down everyone who stood in her way and got her hands on the prize.

Not that Quinn wasn't happy that Coach hadn't persisted in making a Cheerio out of her ex-nemesis, of course, but it was still weird that Coach had just given up like that. What was it that Rachel had said? She didn't want to reveal too much of herself? Little Miss Innocent was probably too conservative to wear a sexy uniform like the Cheerios. How was it that Coach thought _that_ was a valid reason to turn down a prestigious and coveted Cheerios spot?

Her thoughts were all messed up, and ugh, that girl was infuriating. For such a tiny midget, she sure could raise a lot of trouble in Quinn's life. And the worst part was, Rachel made her almost want to like her too, what with trying to 'save' her from the slushies, refusing to slushy her and accepting her apology so easily.

Her father had been the one who ordered her to hate Rachel in the first place and it had always been easier to obey him when she distanced herself from her but what with them being in the same club, it was inevitable that they would get to know each other. Beyond her father's orders and prescribed hatred, what did she think of her personally? She didn't know much about her, except that she loved to sing, had two gay dads and was really smart. And today, she learnt she's an absurdly forgiving person, considering it only took a few words from Quinn calling off the slushies Quinn herself had ordered, for Rachel to forgive her.

Did all of that even matter? The only thing she knew for sure was if Rachel became a Cheerio, became popular in school and her father found out about it, he was going to kill her.

…

Rachel looked at her mom and back at her food. She hadn't even felt hungry for dinner thanks to the enormous lunch her mom had packed for her and now, only halfway through her dinner, her stomach felt like it was bursting at its seams. And she still had yet another protein shake waiting for her after she finished her food. If she was even able to finish the food.

"Try and eat more, Rachel," Shelby encouraged and Rachel lifted another spoonful of rice into her mouth, swallowing with no small amount of difficulty. It felt like the food was stuck in her chest, like there was no more space left in her bloated stomach to squeeze more food in.

She glanced up to see that her mother had just finished her dinner and was looking at her half-eaten plate expectantly, drumming her fingers against the table impatiently. She gulped, overcome by an ominous feeling that this was not going to end well. Sure enough, as she chewed and tried her best to swallow the next mouthful, the food refused to go down. Instead, a wave of nausea swept over her and she rushed to the washroom, reaching the toilet bowl just in time to vomit out all the dinner she had just eaten.

As she knelt beside the toilet bowl and finished retching, she realized her mom was beside her and lifted her head to look at her. She didn't look angry just concerned but Rachel had no time to consider this before a second wave of nausea hit her. "I'm sorry," she cried, before heaving into the ceramic bowl yet another time. She felt her mom's hand on her back and tensed, panicking, but it just patted her lightly, moving up and down her back, comforting her and helping her to breathe through the rounds of vomiting.

"All better?" Shelby asked, and Rachel nodded, still panting slightly. The vomiting was coming to an end, she never thought she'd say this but her now empty stomach felt so much more comfortable. Her mouth, though, tasted disgustingly of half-digested food, bile and bitter gastric acid. Could she wash her mouth now or did her mom want to speak to her first?

"Here," Shelby said, guiding her to the sink and handed her a mug of water. "Rinse your mouth."

Rachel obeyed gratefully and instantly felt much better. "Thank you, mom. I'm sorry I vomited out the dinner you prepared for me, I'll go back and finish it all, I promise."

Shelby sighed. "Was it too much food for you?"

Rachel bit her lip but nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm not used to eating so much."

"It's okay. I'm sorry if I made you think that you had to finish all the food. Please tell me if there's too much food next time, I won't get angry at you or force feed you if you can't finish it all."

"You're not angry? I feel much better now and I think I can finish it."

"Are you still hungry?"

Rachel shook her head.

"Then there's no need to finish it. Next time, let me know you're full already before you feel the need to vomit. I understand that your body needs some time to get used to eating normal amounts, and I'll give you all the time you need, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Mom," Rachel replied, smiling in relief. "I'll go clear the dishes now?"

"It's okay, I'll do it. Go up to your room to do your homework. Don't procrastinate, I want you to be in bed by 9. I'll be up at 840 to check on your dressings and help wipe you down before you go to bed."

"I've finished my homework, remember? I can help with the dishes, I know how to do them properly," Rachel insisted.

"Oh yeah. Get some rest then, your body needs it. Or study ahead. And don't forget to take your medications. The doctors said they can cause some drowsiness, so take a nap if you need to. Leave the dishes to me," Shelby said firmly, guiding her to her room. "I'll leave the protein shake in the fridge in case you get hungry later."

Having been guided to the door of her bedroom, Rachel had no choice but to enter it. Shelby patted her on the shoulder before heading back to the dining area to clear the table, after which she still had many more boxes to unpack, she thought with a groan.

...

Rachel turned on her bed, unable to fall asleep. It was 9, which sophomore went to bed at _nine_! But her mom had insisted and honestly she was already 2 weeks ahead in _all_ her subjects and had worked through the AP Calculus questions twice. She liked to study ahead, yes, but she wasn't used to having so much time on her hands to read this far ahead.

She thought back to her new clothes, wondering which she should wear tomorrow. For once, she didn't have to take into account any fresh marks she needed to cover up. But the clothes were so expensive, and she wondered if she truly would not get slushied tomorrow as well. However, her mom wanted her to wear her new clothes, so she would.

She calculated quickly in her head and worked out that her purchases today added up to almost $300. That was more than what her dads had spent in one month on her acting lessons. It didn't feel right, spending so much money on clothes, especially at this age when she was growing and would eventually outgrow the clothes. Classes were a better investment for her future, she could buy expensive and more durable clothes when she reached an adult size. And even then, her inexpensive sweaters were all proving to be quite durable, she had been wearing them for the past few years and they were still in pretty good condition.

Her mom was once again doing too much for her. She had been packing downstairs when she went down for a glass of water but still refused to let Rachel help her. She didn't let her do _anything_ on her own, not even to take care of her own personal hygiene. She always looked so sad when she helped wipe her down, but she refused to let Rachel do it on her own. At this rate, her debt to her mom was just rising exponentially everyday. She could never ever, in this life, hope to repay her.

...

Quinn forced herself up the stairs. This was bordering on ridiculous, why on earth was she unwilling to enter her own bedroom? Her father wasn't home, there was no need to be afraid. While schoolwork could be done at the dining room table, she certainly couldn't sleep on the living room couch. She had to return to her bedroom eventually.

She turned right at the top of the stairs and stopped short at her bedroom door. She stared at her room from her doorway, reluctant to take a step in. The room was tidied, bed made and sheets changed but still, when she looked in, all she saw was her father and his crazed eyes advancing on her. No! She shook her head. No, she was not going to turn crazy like that, there were enough crazy people in this house. She was a good student, she had Cheerios, and she had Glee. One of the three was going to get her a scholarship and when she left this madhouse, hopefully with her sanity still intact, she was going to make something of herself and never look back.

She took a deep breath, reminding herself that her father was in Washington DC, miles away from home and couldn't get her, then took a step into her room. See, nothing happened. The room still looked the same, not a scrap out of place except for her blue duffle bag from last weekend's sleepover that she had yet to unpack. She dropped her backpack and laptop beside her desk and headed for the duffle bag beside her wardrobe. She needed good memories now, and what better memories than a Unholy Trinity sleepover. It was funny how home was supposed to be a safe haven for most kids, but the only good times she could remember having were all outside of her home.

She put aside her clothes and reached into the bag for her toiletries but instead pulled out a pack of tampons. An _unopened_ pack of tampons.

All the memories came rushing back again. Her father may not have raped her last night but her previous pride at that only served to emphasise just how many times in her life she had been raped. How many times was it? She had no idea, she had completely lost count.

Fear gripped her heart as she stared down at the unopened pack of tampons and refocused her train of thoughts that was running havoc. She was late by a week now and her cycle had been quite regular for the past two years. She hadn't started any diets recently either. Should she be worried?

…

Shelby gazed upon Rachel's sleeping form. Like yesterday, Rachel tended to prefer to sleep prone, she had probably slept supine in the hospital only because of all the tubes and lines she was attached to. Shelby could hazard a guess at the reason for her daughter's sleeping form, although the explanation filled her with anger that she was just so tired of feeling by now. She smoothed Rachel's long hair back and tucked it behind her ears and kissed her on her forehead, sitting down beside her to watch her sleep. Night owl that she usually was, ten o'clock was still way too early for bedtime.

She wondered how Rachel was truly coping with her new living arrangements and new parent. She never uttered a word of complaint despite Shelby's numerous errors. She knew she was over compensating with the clothes and the food, but she couldn't help wanting to give Rachel everything she had missed out on and been starved of for so long. But she had screwed up yet again, and it was Rachel who had suffered her lack of forethought – she had insisted that Rachel finish her dinner, thinking she was just hesitant because she was not used to eating regular meals, and hadn't considered that Rachel might be too afraid of her to confess to being too full. She really couldn't believe Rachel would rather suffer the unpleasant sensation of vomiting from overeating than just voice out that she was full. And then insisting she could still finish the remaining meal when she obviously didn't want to eat anymore.

She shook her head tiredly, she just kept making more mistakes. Clearly, there was so much more she still needed to learn about her psychologically traumatized daughter.

…

He doesn't use condoms. He doesn't use condoms. He doesn't use condoms.

That thought repeated itself over and over in her head, driving all thoughts of sleep away. She smoothed a hand down her abdomen, although she knew pregnant or not, she would feel no difference. It would still be too early, there was only one way to find out. But how was she going to get her hands on a urine pregnancy test kit without anyone finding out?

Santana! It came to her. Her best friend might be hooking up with her other best friend but she would still help her. This was important.

_Hey San, you awake? – Quinn_

The reply came soon after.

_Yea, what's up? – Santana  
You still have any UPTs? – Quinn  
UPT? - Santana  
Urine Pregnancy Test kits. – Quinn_

Maybe she should clarify.

_You bought some a few years back when you had that scare? I know you're on the pill now but do you still have any left? – Quinn  
Quit your rambling, yea I do. You and Finn? - Santana  
_

Quinn stared at the reply. Anyone else would have guessed it was Finn too. She couldn't pause for too long or Santana would suspect something was wrong.

_Yeah. Lend me some tomorrow? – Quinn  
Ooh, didn't know that Finnocence had it in him. – Santana  
Yeah, yeah, will you lend me or not? – Quinn  
Sure, Q. Hope you're not pregnant. Tell him to use a condom next time, man. – Santana  
Thanks, and that's none of your business. Don't tell anyone, okay? – Quinn  
Whatever, pass you a couple tomorrow. Let me know if you want to know where you can get the pill too. – Santana _

Quinn flopped back on her bed with a sigh of part relief. Santana would get her the UPT, she would find out for sure tomorrow. When she finally managed to drift off to sleep, the last thought lingering in her head was a prayer that she would wake up tomorrow and find that her time of the month had come.

_Please, God. _

**A/N. Besides not knowing how to write romance, I am also completely ignorant of fashion and cost of clothes, especially with conversion of currency (please don't guess my gender), so please forgive that too, thanks. Advice and ideas are more than welcome. There will be more Rachel clothes-shopping in future chapters, so if you have any kind of clothing suggestions or anything you want Rachel to wear, let me know in a PM or a review, thanks!**


	17. Author's Note 2

Dear Readers,

I just got this review in my inbox, which shocked me, and I wanted to get your opinion.

okay so first off, I understand what it is your doing, you are bringing fourth a topic that exists and needs to be discussed and fought against in society and all that. However, you got WAY to specific when it comes to how Quinn is abused, there are ways you could have presented this without being so graphic, and yes you'll say "well this happens in real life and shouldn't be sugar coated". **however this is FAR FAR beyond the M rating and henceforth is the reason i have reported it for "explicit content or adult content above the current rating**" - anon (emphasis mine)

What do you think, have I been overly explicit? If yes, please give me some advice on how to edit it (Chapters 3, 4 and maybe 12?) before I get booted off this site. I'm sure my longterm readers would also realise that Quinn has a few more 'home' scenes to go before her rescue, and I'd need your help to un-explicitly write those as well. I realize I use very clinical terms in my descriptions of Quinn's sexual abuse but I'm not too sure how to change that. If you need a context, I've previously confessed to be a medical student, as well as incapable of writing romance/sex. I'm also a single from Singapore, where premarital sex is extremely frowned upon, and so my reading of this area of writing is very limited as well. Lastly, my boss who's a very experienced psychologist and also a close friend thinks I have Asperger's, although I have never been formally diagnosed, but what i do know is that I'm a very straightforward person, especially regarding topics I don't wish to graphically describe. I thought that showed in my writing of Russell/Quinn scenes, considering how much shorter they are compared to Rachel's.

Comments and advice will be very much welcome, thanks!

Regards,  
deadweix

P/S. Please do not flame 'anon', it's not very productive, although it would be helpful to me to be able to contact you directly rather than to communicate with you so publicly. Actual advice would be much more useful, thanks. E.g. What's considered "detailed descriptions", which would be very helpful to me in deciding whether or not I am able to write my story while staying true to 's guidelines.


	18. Chapter 16

**A/N. Firstly, I want to apologise for yet another Author's Note chapter that made you get your hopes up that I've uploaded a new chapter. So here's a **_**real**_** chapter for you, sorry it's so short though.**

**Secondly, I'm sorry I'm not writing individual replies to reviewers, because I've received far too many reviews (which I'm happy for, and totally not complaining about) for both my previous chapter and my Author's Note. I will address the issue of Quinn's possible pregnancy at the end of this chapter to avoid spoilers. If you haven't realized, ANs without spoilers are always in front of the chapter, ANs with spoilers at the end of it, because I, too, hate spoilers.**

**As for Anon's review, let me first explain my reaction. (By the way, I hope I didn't over-react. I won't react like this anymore again, heh) When I first started writing this story, I wondered about the possibility of my story being too graphic for some but for 15 chapters (Author's Notes don't count as a chapter), no one has complained, so I relaxed and continued my story in the same style. Then, to my surprise, I received that review! So I wanted to know what my readers felt.**

**I understand that I should write the story I want to write, and that many of you feel that the descriptions I include in my stories help them to deepen their understanding the thoughts and feelings of my characters, make them more real to you. However, at the same time, I also recognize that an M rating is for people above 16 and not above 21, so I have to consider the possibility of such content being too graphic or traumatizing for the average 16-year-old. I don't know if I want my 16-year-old daughter reading such content, if I had a daughter (which I don't). **

**Such considering has proved tiring but necessary and so I've made up my mind: I will back this story up so that should I get booted off this site, I have a story to publish elsewhere. Then,**

**1) If the powers that be don't evict me, but send me a warning, I will try my best to tone down the details and write implied abuse/rape as best as I can. In fact, I actually have some ideas on how to do so already, and it would be very interesting to try my hand at some not-so-straightforward style of writing. However, since its not what I'm used to, do tell me if I'm atrocious at it and need to convert back to normal writing. **

**2) If they do not response to anon's complaint, then I will continue to write as I have thus far written, but try my best to keep this NC-16. **

**I will also give trigger warnings at the start of the chapters that contain possibly MA content, and have added trigger warnings to Chapters 3 and 4. In Chapter 12, no actual rape or incest was described (just implied and attempted), should there be a warning there too? Which leads me to my question: While the complaint was against Quinn's plot, some of my writing about Rachel is pretty gruesome too, do they require trigger warnings as well? Specifically, I'm talking about real/remembered/dreamt abuse scenes in Chapters 1, 2, 10 and 12, as well as injury descriptions in Chapters 6 and 7. By the way, when I say that I think Rachel's psychological abuse is worse, I mean it's more deep-seated, so much so that she doesn't realize her fathers are abusing her. I think her psychological abuse is extremely disturbing, more so than the physical abuse even, but unfortunately, I have no idea how to add trigger warnings for those, since it's all over the fic.**

**Last but not least, sorry about the lateness of this update, I spent a fair amount of time reading everyone's reviews and thinking about the issues I've discussed and will discuss in my Author's Notes. By the way, I've just started school, and medical school, as you might guess, is incredibly fast-paced and super busy, so the updates will be shorter and coming out much more slowly, sorry about that too! Studies come first, sorry, I'm a typical Singaporean :P But don't worry, I won't abandon this story, it'll be completed eventually.**

Chapter 16

Rachel woke up with a start. She'd had that dream again, except this time, she knew it was her mom because she was screaming at her, scolding "You wasteful girl! How dare you not finish the food I spent time and money buying and preparing for you?" Then somehow, the person holding the belt morphed into Dad who started yelling at her for being greedy and fat. He was soon joined by Daddy, who didn't yell but worse, was quiet and disappointed as his low voice lectured her on her stupidity and selfishness costing her fathers their reputation as good fathers, reprimanding her for her ungratefulness for the years it had taken them to manage to find a surrogate to bear them a child and all they had sacrificed to raise her.

She missed them so much, it was almost worth the scolding if she could see them in her dreams. But the words had hurt, and even though she would never argue back at them if they had been scolding her in real life, she really hoped they knew she hadn't meant to get them in trouble and that she needed to obey her mom now that she was living with her. She understood it had still been wrong of her to get into a fight, it was reckless and careless, she hadn't spared a thought for how it might affect her fathers. And she knew she was stupid and had had many opportunities in school and at CPS to convince them not to take action against her fathers but had failed each time. But she hoped they knew that she did not think badly of them and did not consider any of the discipline they had meted out to her as child abuse. She knew abuse had never been their intention. 'Child abuse' were the words used by the teachers, nurses, social worker and even her mom, but not her, never her. She loved them too much to think something so horrible of them and she knew they loved her too. Even though she'd met her mom and now loved her dearly too, she still needed them and missed them so much.

'Dingdong!' the doorbell rang and Rachel rolled out of bed, glancing at the alarm clock on her way to the window. Was it their doorbell? She hadn't heard it yet, since no one had visited them before. 630am, who would be visiting Shelby so early in the morning? Was it her fathers, she wondered excitedly, even though her rational mind reminded her they weren't supposed to. She looked out the window. It was a moving van, and it was driving off, leaving behind a stack of boxes just outside their gate.

Why had mom arranged for a delivery van so early in the morning? She listened carefully for her mom, but there were no signs of her stirring from her room. She decided she should just help her mom to move the boxes into the house on her own. Based on how protective her mom had been so far, this might be the only time she could help her mom do anything.

'Dingdong!' Shelby stirred from her sleep. She glanced at her clock, 630, she must have been dreaming, no one could possibly be visiting so early. She turned away from the clock and covered her head with her pillow, trying to fall asleep again. However, just as she was drifting off, she heard her front door creak open, followed by the clanking open of the metal gates. This time, she was certain she wasn't dreaming, so she climbed out of bed with a groan. "Rachel?" she called out to the only other occupant in her house, as she hurriedly slipped on her coat and slippers. Brrr, the weather _was_ getting cold. She shuffled sleepily out of her room and glanced at Rachel's room to see that her daughter wasn't in bed.

"Who is it, Rachel?" she called out again, as she walked down the stairs.

The front door was open and Rachel was nowhere in sight. Awake and a little more anxious now, she hurried out of the door into her driveway. There she was, standing in the cold wind with nothing but her thin cotton pajamas on. "Where's your coat and slippers?" Shelby scolded gently, forgetting that Rachel had neither as yet.

Rachel turned to her, crying quietly. "Mommy!" was all she said before burying her head into the front of Shelby's coat. Shelby wrapped her arms around her daughter and leaned on her chin on her head, trying to give her both comfort and warmth.

"What's wrong, honey?" she asked. She looked around and for the first time, noticed the 4 boxes laid out on her lawn, along with one tall elliptical machine. "Are these yours?"

Rachel nodded, still sobbing. "They packed and sent _everything_, even my elliptical! They don't want me anymore. They're giving me away, kicking me out, they didn't even stop to say hello."

Shelby's heart clenched tightly in her chest. She was half glad the Berries hadn't stopped to talk to Rachel, and especially glad they hadn't taken her away (What was she doing standing in the driveway all by herself at 6 in the morning!) but she couldn't really be happy, not when her little girl's heart was breaking. "I'm so sorry, Rachel," she comforted gently, holding her daughter close. "They couldn't stop to talk to you, remember I told you they aren't allowed to?" That did little to comfort Rachel, only making her cry even harder.

What was she supposed to say? She was glad for that court ruling, Rachel would never meet those monsters ever again, not if she had anything to say about it, but her daughter was obviously distraught about that same fact.

"I want you, Rachel. They might not want you anymore but I want you. I'll always be your mother, and I will _always_ want you."

There was no response from Rachel except an appreciative squeeze and more sobs, so Shelby just held her and allowed her to cry out her sorrows. After a while, the shaking sobs slowed and started to be replaced by shivering from the cold, and Shelby recalled her coatless and barefoot daughter was going to catch hypothermia soon if she didn't get her inside the house.

"Come on, Rachel, let's get you inside. I'll make you some hot chocolate to warm you right up."

Rachel hiccuped and sniffled into some semblance of calmness as she wiped her tears away. "Let me take my things in first," she said, turning back towards the boxes and elliptical still sitting on the driveway.

"_I_ will take them in later. My first priority is to keep you warm. You must be freezing! I do hope you have some slippers and a nice warm coat among your things, this is the last time you're walking put of the house in this weather barefooted, understood?" Shelby chided lightly, grasping Rachel's hand and pulling her gently towards the house.

Rachel turned back to her mom, and noticed for the first time that the front of her mom's coat was covered in her snot and tears. "Sorry about that," she apologised guiltily, hanging her head, her eyes surreptitiously glancing around to check that their neighbors weren't out and about yet. God, they must make quite a sight!

"It's okay," Shelby reassured, tugging at Rachel's hand once more, and this time, she followed her obediently, sighing dramatically as they stepped into the warmth of the house. "Would you like another hug, though?" she asked Rachel cheekily, reaching out to pull her in. Her little joke finally earned her a smile from her daughter as Rachel ducked under her outstretched arms and danced away.

...

"Are you sure you're alright?" Shelby asked again as she brought the car to s stop at the traffic lights and looked over at her daughter.

"Yes, mom," Rachel replied and gave her worried mom a smile, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. She should be happy, her mom was showing her so much concern and was really trying her best to comfort her after what happened this morning... She should be happy but all she could think about was her things sitting in her mom's driveway, and the despair and loneliness at feeling abandoned by her beloved fathers. Still, none of this had anything to do with her mom, and she knew she shouldn't be bringing those feelings into her interactions with her mom. Like how her unpopularity had nothing to do with her dads, so she wasn't supposed to bring it home, her mistakes with her dads had nothing to do with her mom. If anything, her mom was her life-saver, otherwise she'd probably be living out on the streets or something right now.

Not that she wouldn't be absolutely deserving of such treatment, all this, after all, was her own fault. And now that she had been pretty much been kicked out of her former home, and all 37 of her SMSes to both fathers since last Thursday had thus far been ignored, there was nothing else she could do. Sulking and moping around here was really quite useless. The mistakes were all made and there was nothing more she could do right now. Once this was all over and she could meet her dads again, she would apologise and hopefully they would accept her back. Not before punishing her, of course, and she would deserve it - every single lash of the cane, every single day of food restriction, every single mile on the treadmill, every single hour of chores. She could only hope they could think of a punishment severe enough for her to pay off her debt and eventually earn their forgiveness.

"Are you sure?" Shelby asked again, her concern clear in her voice. "Last chance, I'm turning into your school now, and I can go in and talk to your principal, you don't have to go to school today if you're not feeling up to it."

It was a tempting offer but Rachel shook her head. She knew her mom was still really busy with unpacking and paperwork and she would only get in the way if she stayed home. She needed to be as little trouble as possible to not get kicked out from this house too. She was pretty sure she had no more family lurking in the shadows who would drop everything and come live with her if her living arrangements failed again.

"I'm really fine, Mom," she insisted. "I should go to school, I've already missed classes last Friday, I shouldn't miss them again today too."

Shelby stopped the car at the school gate and turned to her daughter. "If you're sure," she said, knowing there was nothing more she could do except give Rachel some space and allow her to work things out on her own. "Remember I'll pick you up after school to take you to the hospital. You need to get those dressings changed."

"I can walk there, mom," Rachel protested. "It's barely two miles from school."

"I have a perfectly good car here, you don't have to walk. I'll pick you up at one?"

"Okay. Thanks mom, I won't be late," Rachel assured Shelby. "Thank you for driving me, and thank you again for the new clothes."

Shelby fought back a sigh. "Have a great day, darling, I'll see you later," she replied, leaning over to kiss Rachel on the forehead, before allowing her to get out of the car.

She stared at the road for a moment before sighing and driving off. At first, Rachel's politeness had both amazed and amused her, weren't teenagers supposed to be rude, argumentative creatures? How fortunate was she that her daughter was so well-manmered? Now, though, the formality with which her daughter regarded her just made her want to scream. Rachel should feel like she could express herself without fear of repercussions. If she was angry, she should be able to say so freely. She certainly had a lot to be angry and upset about. And to be honest, it hurt, too, that her daughter was too frightened and insecure to be herself around her, that Rachel felt the need to mask her true emotions behind politeness and formality. She was her mom, she should not feel the need to be so controlled around her.

...

Rachel walked down the school halls cautiously. Out of habit, her eyes darted left and right, checking out every schoolmate's hands, looking for any tell-tale slushie cups. There was none and she smiled in relief. "Way to go, Quinn!" she cheered in her head.

"Wow, Rach, you look super hot!" Brittany exclaimed, as she bounded over to Rachel and swept the unsuspecting girl into a hug.

"Hello, Brittany. Really?" Rachel asked, although her voice was muffled because her face was crushed against Brittany. She looked up to see the beaming face of her teammate and a smile crept over her face. She was still feeling quite upset her dad but this was the first time anyone had complimented her on her clothes. It was impossible not to smile around Brittany anyway, her cheerfulness and childlike enthusiasm was simply infectious.

Her smile faded, however, when she looked behind Brittany and saw the scowl directed at her from Quinn, who had been walking with Brittany and now looked extremely annoyed.

"Good morning, Quinn," she greeted, as she quickly backed away from Brittany. "Sorry about that, please don't shun Brittany because she talked to me."

"No, I won't," Quinn said curtly but was interrupted by Brittany.

"Of course she won't, didn't you hear, we don't have to ignore you anymore! Coach says she invited you to join the Cheerios, so you're one of us now, and even though you said no to her, it's still okay for us to be nice to you now! " Brittany explained brightly.

"Oh really?" This was news to her.

"Yup! Quinn just told me this morning to help her tell everyone else!"

"Thank you Brittany, Quinn, I appreciate it," Rachel said primly but could not help but break out into yet another smile when Brittany beamed back at her. What had gotten into Coach Sylvester's mind that she would lay down a ruling like that?

"Sanny, I mean, Santana should be here now, I should go find her," Brittany told Rachel. "I need to explain to her that it was I who hugged and complimented you, otherwise she might angry and come find you later. She's funny that way about me hugging other girls, even if you're a fellow Cheerio."

"Yes, please," Rachel said, at the same time as Quinn responded "Yeah, you should". They looked at each other, both wondering if the world had just come to an end, seeing as they had both just agreed on something. Brittany walked away smiling, humming a tune under her breath.

"This doesn't make you my friend, _Rachel_," Quinn said curtly, hoping to make things clear from the start.

"Did you just call me Rachel?"

Quinn ignored her and continued on. "Just because Coach suddenly changed her mind about you doesn't mean I have. The rules say that I'm not allowed to humiliate you in public or call you names anymore but it doesn't mean I have to _like_ you."

"But what about yesterday? You apologized to me and sang me a song at Glee…"

"Well, that was yesterday. I went overboard on Thursday and wanted to say sorry. Now that you're no longer going to be slushied or bullied and have heard my stupid song, we're even."

"It wasn't stupid, it was really good!" Rachel protested. "You sang it with great feeling, like you really meant every word you were singing, which made it really expressive and touching. Were you just referring to last Thursday's 'Slushy Fest' or was there something more?"

"I've already apologised, what else do you want – me to list down every damn thing I've ever done to you?"

"No! I meant, you didn't just look apologetic, you looked kind of sad. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just back off." If Quinn were honest with herself, she was being quite mean to Rachel, the exact opposite of her original intentions yesterday as well as Coach's orders but seeing the girl she used to hate and pick on become popular and show her concern as if she was the bigger person here just pissed her off. And to top it all off, who dressed her today? She hated to admit it, but Brittany was right, out of those granny sweaters, Rachel Berry actually looked kind of good. No way in hell was she going to tell herthat, though.

"Okay. Well, thank you still, for calling me by my given name and being nice to me even though you don't like me. I appreciate the effort and I'll try my best to keep out of your way."

"Whatever," Quinn replied, rolling her eyes and walking away. She had more important things to worry about. Top of the list was the real reason why she was so angry today – she really needed to get them from Santana soon.

**A/N. With regard to Quinn's pregnancy, I've heard your comments and yes, I agree that for a girl to be impregnated by her father is a terrible, horrible thing. I'm a girl myself (DS, you're right) and I cannot begin to imagine something like that happening to me, or anyone I care about.**

**Nevertheless, as you continue reading the story, please remember what I shared earlier, that part of the reason why I started writing this fic was because it was therapeutic for me, allowing me to work through the difficult issues that I've encountered and figuring them out. Just like how the abuse Rachel suffers goes beyond the typical physical beatings and is deeply psychological as well, Quinn's story is also more complicated than the 'usual' sexual abuse, beyond Russell's back story or whether or not she's pregnant.**

**This is another reason why (besides me being a Christian and not being able to write any kind of romance), I didn't want to turn this into another abuse-rescue-hurtcomfort-Faberry fic. While I am still having problems writing Quinn's story, I don't want to take this 'easy way out'. I'm hoping my readers will ride out the journey with me, however slow I get, and continue to give me directions so I can make this a better story but whatever it is, this is the story that's firmly stuck in my head, so this is the story I'm going to keep writing.**

**Last but not least, often I feel like my characters are the ones taking me for the ride here. They pull the story in directions I'm not aware I was going in, and jump me with plots and scenes at random times of the day, which is highly inappropriate when I'm learning in a hospital but I've learnt to adapt to their constant presence in my head. **

**Whatever plot I choose to write eventually, I will try my best to write it with dignity and respect and handle these issues with the weightiness due them. Please feel free to flame me if I do not do so. **


	19. Chapter 17

CarmellaD'Winter – Thank you, I hope you enjoy it and continue to give me your comments so I can continue to improve this story.

Acaelousqueadcentrum – Thank you for that reassurance. has not evicted me yet so I'm hopeful that they also agree with you.

Guest – Regarding your Chapter 16 rant, yes I agree with you that what Quinn is going through is horrible. As for how she handles whatever happens, she's going to have a lot of growing up to do. In response to your Chapter 17 rant, I'm glad you didn't mention any stories. Flaming writers isn't nice, because whether or not you like their writing, whether their English is good or poor, or whether or not you agree with their theme/plot/etc, it takes a lot of effort to write a fic and much courage to publish it and put it out there in public exposed to everyone's criticism.

Guest – Please don't feel stupid. I'm glad, because I put a lot of effort into making sure that last AN did not contain any spoilers, to keep you guys in suspense. I don't like spoilers!

NZgleek91 – Yep, poor Shelby. Unfortunately for her, this is a Hurt/Comfort fic and just because Rachel and Quinn are the two abused kids in this fic doesn't mean they are the only ones hurting. It must be awful for Shelby to see Rachel so hurt and broken and to know that she indirectly caused it by giving her away. She's not a 'super mom' like in most abuse fics, I'm starting her off pretty much in the same place as in canon when she met Rachel (Think: "I shouldn't have done this. This was supposed to feel good. We're supposed to have some kind of slow motion run into each other's arms. This is all wrong. I'm so sorry, Rachel. I'll… I'll call you."), except in my story she couldn't exactly turn Rachel down given what happened. As for Rachel, she's trying her best, and is behaving the only she knows how, but isn't aware of how much she's hurting her mom's feelings. So Shelby is just this ordinary woman struggling to raise her daughter, and she's bound to make mistakes and feel horribly inadequate, but I wanted to show how she gets through it, how they both get through it together.

Anon – Thank you for your trust and advice, I'll try my best.

allessie – Yes, there's definite Faberry friendship planned for this fic, but their 'friendship' might take a while to develop and will be… interesting. I can see you really want Rachel to have friends, and I want that for her too, she'll get them, don't worry.

JAMES-EAI – Thank you, I always enjoy it when my readers demonstrate impatience for a new chapter, I appreciate your reviews greatly and it does motivate me to write faster (:

Rini – Short doesn't mean I don't like my chapters, just that after I have kept my readers waiting, I think they deserve longer chapters and a quicker advancement of the plot for them to find out what happens next. Unfortunately, real life is such that I don't have that much time to update as quickly as I'd like to, sorry.  
Shelby is struggling, yes but I wanted some realism, and I think any mom would have problems trying to raise her 15-year-old daughter that she gave away and had never met. Just being a mom is hard enough and in her case, it's so much worse considering the trauma and abuse that Rachel has had to go through, it's got to be superbly difficult to figure out what to do. It's also her first time as a mother, so I wanted to show her struggling and figuring things out along the way. I know Rachel deserves a good mom, but even if Shelby isn't absolutely competent, confident or secure about herself, in my book she's still a good mom, because she loves Rachel and has pure and good intentions towards her. I hope that shows in her struggles.  
As for Rachel knowing something's going on with Quinn, she doesn't really know, just suspects. Remember in Chapter 2 when Quinn drove by and saw Rachel pick the apple up from the grass and wonder about it? I wanted to show how abuse _always has signs, but it's often the little things that we pass off as just slightly weird and random events with no additional significance. Who knows how wrong we might be sometimes? Whether or not Rachel acts on her suspicions, you'll have to read on to find out.

Shana – Oh man, I can't tell you how much of a compliment that is, thank you!

shiniso – Thanks a lot! It's a compulsive need to tell the story properly, I couldn't write it any other way even if I wanted to. I'd make a terrible short story writer. Your impatience encourages and motivates me, as does Quinn's plight. This is a much more Quinn-centered chapter, although I wonder if you'll enjoy it. Hope you do (:

**A/N. My apologies, another short chapter, real life sucks sometimes. However, I figured most of my readers would rather get one short chapter once a week (which is my aim, but I make no promises) than one long chapter every 3-4 weeks, so my chapters will unfortunately continue to usually be quite short.**

**The good news is that Quinn's story is finally moving along, and these chapters, while short, will move the plot along at a faster rate than before, since a lot of the characterization is well-established and I'm very anxious to get through this part of the story. Hope you enjoy (:**

Chapter 17

Quinn stared at the tiny black word on the stick. '**Pregnant**', the screen read mockingly. No, no it couldn't be. But the other two positive test kits lying at her feet suggested otherwise. She might have held some hope for a false positive test when she was on her first stick but _three_ false positives were practically impossible.

She supposed she should be screaming, or at least crying, but she couldn't do either, she couldn't do anything. She couldn't move, she couldn't think, it felt like she couldn't even breathe. She just felt completely numb.

Oh God, what am I going to do?

For the next hour, she just sat there, staring at the screen, willing for the word 'Not' to appear as well, but it didn't, no matter how much she wished it would.

Finally, her phone vibrated, indicating an incoming message and she glanced down at it, the first time she'd moved in the past hour.

_How's it, Q? Preggers or not? - Santana_

She closed her eyes and looked away but knew she had to reply soon. Not replying would be as good as admitting she was pregnant, and as much of a good friend as Santana was, she was also a gossip queen, especially such juicy gossip that would dethrone Quinn and put Santana back on top of the Cheerios pyramid again.

_Nope. - Quinn_

Get up and go home, she told herself, willing her body to move. Weren't you just mocking Rachel for hiding in the school toilets yesterday? Now here you are doing the same thing, and you don't even have the whole student body hunting you down to slushy you. You're a Fabray, you're Quinn HBIC Fabray, you'll figure this out. Abort, adopt, whatever, you've got at least 8 more months to figure this out.

...

"Hey Noah, wait up!"

Puck turned around and stopped walking to wait for her to catch up with him. "What's up, Jewbabe?"

"I wanted to ask you, did you do something to Karofsky to make him apologise to me?"

"Did he?"

"Yes he did, thank you for asking, but you didn't answer my question."

"Not just me, babe, but the whole gang of Glee guys too. Even Artie joined in, man."

"You and the other guys beat him up? Noah Puckerman, how could you? You know I do not believe in violence, that slap on Thursday was an anomalous event and a mistake I don't intend to ever make again. Non-violent conflict resolution is the only way to permanently end feuds. And you even influenced Artie to join you? How did Artie manage to hit him from his wheelchair anyway? Oh no, what if Karofsky and his friends beat up Artie next? You know he can't defend himself and would make a very easy target for Karofsky to take his revenge on…"

"Oh yeah you slapped him on Thursday, right?" Puck interrupted. He sort of liked Rachel, especially when she sang, and they've been kind of friends since childhood when they both went to the Temple together, but boy could that girl talk your head off once you got her started. "Lucky you, man, I totally wanted to crack my fist against his head. How's your hand, by the way, did you break any fingers against his thick thick skull?"

"My fingers are fine, thank you very much, I don't believe it's possible to break any fingers when slapping someone. And I really didn't mean to slap him. But you didn't, did you, hit him, I mean?"

"Nope, we just scared him shitless. I faked a punch and came this close to slamming my fist into his wimpy face. He nearly peed in his pants, ha!"

Rachel smiled at the image that was forming in her mind, although she knew she really shouldn't. "Thank you for standing up for me, Noah. It means a lot to me. And thank you for not hitting him even thought you wanted to."

"Don't thank me, babe, it was Artie. If he weren't there, I would have beat the shit out of him. I may be a punk, but even I draw the line at hitting girls, man."

"Thank you, Noah, you're not a punk, you're a better man than you try to make us believe you are."

"Whatever, don't spoil my rep." Puck flexed his biceps and struck a muscleman pose, smiling at Rachel

Rachel rolled her eyes. "_Bye_, Noah. Study hard and stay out of trouble."

It was Puck's turn to roll his eyes. "Later, Jewbabe," he said, not deigning to verbally respond to her nagging.

...

Quinn twirled her pen absentmindedly, unable to concentrate on her schoolwork. It wasn't due tomorrow anyway, she decided, chucking it aside. Tearing off a new sheet of notepaper, she doodled aimlessly but soon found herself jotting down her three options.

1) Abort

2) Adopt

3) Keep the baby

She stared at what her wandering mind had come up with, what she had been trying not to think about but obviously her subconscious had other ideas. Ugh, all three sounded terrible.

Aborting seemed like the easiest option - one procedure and no one would be any the wiser, maybe not even her parents. But didn't people get psychological problems and nightmares after these kinds of operations? And they sometimes died too, or like, couldn't have any more babies, right?

She didn't even know if she could kill a baby anyway. Logically, she knew it technically wasn't a baby yet, just a clump of cells that couldn't survive on its own. But was she capable of ending the life of a tiny thing that was so completely dependent on her for its life? It may not be alive now, but if she did nothing at all, it would be in 8 months time. It would haunt her forever, knowing she purposefully ended the life of someone who was a part of herself, she didn't know if she could live with that.

Maybe it was because they'd just watched the documentary video 'The Silent Scream' in Biology class, but vacuuming or evacuating a baby with a beating heart, open mouth and fully formed little fingers out of herself was too horrifying a thought to bear. It felt like murder even though logically she knew it wasn't, not really.

Give it up for adoption? Keep it? Both options required actually delivering the baby and that would mean she would have to carry it around for another 9 months. During which everyone would find out about it. What would her parents do? Would they beat her up, or worse, kick her out of the house? And what about her mom, she would be forced to face the facts about her father's...nightly visits. They'd never discussed this topic before, but she had to know about them, there was no way she could be ignorant of her husband's visits to her 16-year-old daughter's bedroom and the screams that often followed. Would this pregnancy stop those visits then? That would almost make it worth it. Almost. At the very least, it would be a silver lining in all this mess, possibly the only one.

But what if her father denied it and her mother followed him and also refused to believe her? What if they thought it was Finn's, that she had been sleeping around with him? They would surely burn her like a witch.

Why shouldn't it be Finn's anyway, she thought angrily. By rights, if she were to get pregnant with anyone's kid, it was supposed to be his, even Santana had thought so. She didn't know any other Cheerio besides maybe a few freshmen who were still virgins. She had been going out with Finn for a few months now, she was supposed to be having sex with him. Sure, she was also _supposed_ to be a Christian and President of Christ Crusaders and the Celibacy Club but everyone knew those were rubbish, just a chance for its members to talk about sex and for the girls to share secrets on how to tease the boys. In this day and age, no one 'saved themselves for marriage' anymore, it just wasn't practical. No guy would stay with you if you didn't put out for them, it was a miracle Finn had even waited for her for so long.

Truthfully, maybe he wasn't the only one doing the waiting. Every girl dreams about losing her virginity to the boy of her dreams, that magical moment with a boy who loved her and did not pressure her, who treated her with gentleness and respect and waited until she was ready. Less than 2 years ago, she had been that girl too, with beautiful fantasies of a romantic fairy tale ending. But maybe this was her chance, her chance to give away her virginity again, for real this time.

To give it away, not have it ripped from her.

...

"Most of your clothes are folded and kept away, take a look in your wardrobe later, I don't know how you like your clothes arranged, I hope my arrangement of them is okay. There's one more load of sweaters left that I've put through the dryer but didn't have the time to iron before I had to pick you up from school. I'll finish the ironing now and pass them to you later. Go up to your room and do your homework, I'll start on dinner soon and it should be ready by 6."

"I've finished my homework, Mom, let me iron my own clothes. And you really didn't have to wash all my clothes for me, they're clean, I always wash them before keeping them."

"Again? When did you find the time to finish your schoolwork? I picked you up right after school."

"I finished it during break. Really. You can check it if you want." Did her mom not believe her?

"Okay, I believe you, there's no need. Go unpack the rest of your things, then. I've unpacked your books onto the bookshelves and your trophies into the glass cabinet but there's another box of personal items left that I didn't want to go through without your permission."

"Thanks, mom but you really didn't have to. You said it'd be my responsibility to keep my own room clean and I should have been the one to unpack my things, you needn't have done it for me."

"I know, but I didn't have anything else to do while you were at school. I can't start work until I get my office is soundproofed and besides those boxes meant for my office, I've finished unpacking most of the rest of my things. Anyway, the moving boxes are heavy and I didn't want you to strain yourself. You've been looking after your dressings so well, Nurse Martha said your back is healing very nicely and I didn't want you to spoil that."

"You had so many of your own things to unpack, and you've been unpacking for days without letting me help you, you didn't need…"

"You're welcome, honey. Now go. You've had a long day." The morning's events went unspoken, even if it was on both their minds. "Remember to take your meds and take a nap if you have to!"

"Yes, mom. Thank you."

...

"Hey Finn."

"Hello, Quinn. Listen, I'm really sorry I missed last week's meeting of Christ Crusaders. I was really busy, my mom had to go for this appointment and..."

"No worries, I understand."

Finn stared at his girlfriend. Who was she and what alien was inhabiting her body? Usually, she would make him beg and grovel at least a little bit before she forgave him, even for mistakes smaller than this.

"Listen. My father will be overseas the whole of this week and my mom has a Chastity Ball meeting tonight, why don't you come over to my house?"

"Oh... Wow... Really?"

Quinn fought the urge to roll her eyes at the dumb baboon face Finn was giving her. "Really," she replied with a slight smile, hoping he would understand her underlying message.

He clearly did, as his face flushed red and quickly turned to the mailman look she knew well. This time, she couldn't help rolling her eyes.

"See you at 7. Bring pizza."


	20. Chapter 18

CarmellaD'Winter – Do you really want Beth to come into this story? I'm not saying if she is, but you sound like you do. Yes, I do know her thinking is slightly warped, but she's 16 and dealing with an impossible situation, so I hope you forgive her teenage idiocy.

Guest – She is indeed in a horrific mess but she's doing the best she can, and as you rightly point out, she's only 16. Us adults from the outside looking in can see clearly that she should just get out of the house and report her useless parent**s** but… yea. Things like this do happen in real life, and I hope that every child that has to go through such horrific messes get the kindness and support they need to overcome their horrible childhoods. Even if they make stupid decisions like Quinn is doing.

Jenn – Thank you for reviewing! I know what you mean, I'm not good at reviewing either but I really liked reading your review, so I hope you do so more often. Thank you for your support, I hope you don't regret your decision to power through, everything _will_ turn out well in the end. No character deaths in this fic.

shiniso – Man makes plans and God laughs. She's doing the best she can, she's just 16 and faced with an impossible situation such as this, she can't see that far ahead. All she wants is to deal with the here and now. I'll take note of your preferences, but I hope you like what I have planned for her so far.

Valerii. FaberryFan – Thanks, hope you like this one too.

NZgleek91 – Don't worry, I know what you mean. I've planned this story for months now and sometimes I still have no idea how my characters' stories should go. Hope you do enjoy this ride, and thanks for your praise and encouragement.

Shana – Haha, I figured yes, seeing as I'm somewhat of a fanfiction addict as well. Rachel's rescue was definitely much easier than Quinn's, which is funny seeing as Quinn knows she's being abused, but Rachel still doesn't really believe her dads had been abusing her. Not that there is anything truly funny about either of their situations, though, more like… ironic. And hmm, you'll be happy in a few more chapters, then. At least, I hope so. (:

Dreamsilver – Some people do keep a baby borne of incest and rape. Some people simply cannot bear the thought of abortion, however the baby was conceived. To each her own, I guess. We all have different levels of tolerance for different horrible acts. They would say that they had horrible things forced on them but this other act of abortion is something they should be able to choose whether or not to do. I don't suppose we the lucky ones, from the outside looking in, should be allowed to judge them when we can't possibly understand what it feels like to be faced with such a difficult situation.

Anon – Quinn definitely has some serious psychological issues of her own. As for her decisions, she's young and might not be thinking so clearly. However, some women really do make such decisions in real life, and it's their choice to make them, I don't think we should judge them.

xxDark Angel Babyxx – Thanks for your enthusiasm, hope you like this chapter too.

Rini – Yes, Quinn's story is definitely progressing, especially now that Rachel is safe. I do have to confess, though, that I much prefer to write Rachel's story, heh. As for my rate of updating, at 1 update (or none) a week, I'll actually be updating less often, not more, sorry if I got your hopes up. In fact, I almost didn't manage to get this chapter out this week.

Chapter 18. 

6:50. 10 more minutes.

Her mother had already left for her meeting, the housekeeper had left for the day, and she was alone at home. She paced up and down the living room, wondering if this was truly the right thing for her to do. Okay, it definitely wasn't 'right' as in 'ethical', tricking Finn into being the father of a baby that wasn't his would be quite a cruel deception, even by her own standards. However, none of the options were right, what was done to her was definitely not _right_ either_. _Question was, is this her best option? If she was going to keep this baby, at the end of the day, she still needed a father for it. Her own father might be its birth father but there was no way she was going to allow her child to be raised by that monster. Moreover, despite the many hours she had spent thinking and worrying, she still wasn't certain of how her parents would react to this news, and Finn was a good backup. If Finn thought he was the father of her baby, even if she got kicked out of her house, he would be forced to take her in, to raise this baby as her own. For all his faults, Finn was a good guy, a responsible person.

Anyway, it wasn't like she'd slept with Puck or some other guy from school. Considering who the baby's parents were, it was certain to look like her. She did look quite like her father, after all. Finn would never know it wasn't his, would never have to suffer that shame. At most, it would come a little earlier than expected, her last menstrual period was just 6 weeks ago, she couldn't be that far along. Finn had always been easy to lie to, he was dumb like most jocks, she could just say it was premature and he would totally buy it.

A thought struck her, though. Didn't she learn in European history that too many intermarriages between the royalty resulted in many royal children being born with birth defects? And earlier this year, their Biology teacher had explained this phenomenon, that people who were related shared many autosomal recessive genes, and if their child was unlucky enough to inherit both of the autosomal recessive genes, they were often born with multiple birth defects. Given that the royals usually married cousins but still had many deformed children in their lineage, what did that mean for her? Surely she shared many more genes with her father than mere cousins would, what if her child came out stupid or with two heads? They would test the baby's genes and the truth would come out. Finn was a good guy, but not _that_ good, no one – no guy – would help to look after a baby that wasn't his, especially not a defective baby.

And it wasn't just the possible birth defects. Even if the baby turned out fine, if word got out about who the baby's father was, the social stigma attached to such a birth would guarantee that it would be shunned from proper society for the rest of its life. Being the product of an incestuous union was universally even more socially unacceptable than being the product of a homosexual union, it would be bullied even more than Rachel Berry, and would blame Quinn for giving birth to it for the rest of its life. No, that couldn't be the life of her child, she couldn't let that happen to it. If she chose to give birth to this child, she would make sure it had a good life – friends, family, and a good home.

All the more reason why it needed a good father. If everyone thought Finn was the real father, including Finn himself, no one would ever know how it was conceived. And if Finn accepted the child as his own, maybe he would still love the child, even with birth defects and what not.

She simply had to try.

...

God, she's beautiful, Finn thought as he looked down at Quinn and took her into his arms. She might not be the sweetest girlfriend; in fact, she was often quite mean and very high maintenance but she was also easily the prettiest girl in school. That and her popularity more than made up for how long she'd made him wait for this. And tonight was going to be _the_ night, if he played his cards right. He leaned in to kiss her, his heart racing when her lips met his and she did not resist. He felt like the luckiest boy alive now. Lips still attached in the longest kiss they'd shared since they started dating, he wrapped his arms around her narrow waist and supported her onto the couch, mind racing about how much further she was going to allow him to go tonight. Stay cool, he told himself, trying to calm his pounding heart.

Take slow and deep breaths, Quinn told herself, trying to calm her pounding heart. Relax, just relax, this is Finn, you invited him here for this very purpose, so just let him have his way with you tonight. An image of her father flashed through her mind and she pushed it away viciously. Although Finn's nervous, fumbling hands were trying their best to be gentle, they still belonged to a male, and that was enough to make her want to jump up from the couch and run as far away from him as possible.

Finn's hands wrapped around her shoulders possessively, and where he touched her, her skin felt itchy and incredibly in need of a bath. She had spent the entire day worrying about how she was going to deceive Finn and convince him that one night of sexual intercourse was sufficient for him to impregnate her, that she hadn't thought about how awful and uncomfortable the actual intercourse would be in the first place.

You lay there and survived all those nights with _him_, you can do this too. This is Finn, or Finnoncence, as San often calls him, how bad can it be? Finn might be an idiot, but he was an honest idiot, and Quinn trusted that he was still a virgin. So really, it can't be as bad as those nights with _him_. You already knew there was no way you were going to enjoy this, so just grit your teeth and bear it. Try to convince him you're giving yourself to him willingly and enjoying his touches. This lie you're going to tell him is bad enough, at least give him one night of enjoyment out of it, he deserves that much.

His lips moved away from hers and travelled down her neck, peppering it with kisses. Quinn knew he was trying to be romantic, key word being _trying_, this was probably just something his buddy Puck had taught him about, but the memory of the last person whose lips had been there was just too much for her. Harsh lips that kissed her hard enough to bruise her gums, burning tongue that scorched a path down her neck, hands that groped her in her most private places, the man that robbed her of her precious virginity and impregnated her with a bastard child, forcing her to do this...

"No!" she shouted, shocking both herself and Finn. She hadn't really meant to say that aloud, she couldn't, she was supposed to let him do this so that he would believe the child was his! Still, she couldn't deny that she was extremely thankful that the weight beside her jumped off immediately and she was faced with a puzzled looking Finn.

Finn startled at the shout from his girlfriend and jumped off the couch at once. She had certainly said no to him countless times before, he thought, recalling her three words 'Wait, let's pray' that was the bane of his existence, but not like this. She sounded almost scared.

"I'm sorry, you... you wanted this, right?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes!" Quinn assured, recovering quickly. "It's just, this is not really the right mood, on the couch beside a box of pizzas. It's our first time, you want it to be special too, right? Let's go upstairs, take a bath _together_ in they hot tub, then do it on the bed. It would be so much more romantic, don't you think?"

The truth was, she felt desperately in need of yet another bath, to try to wash the memory of _him_ off her skin. She had thought if they did it on the couch instead of the bed where _it_ normally happened, it wouldn't remind her so much of her father. Apparently not. As long as she lived in this skin, there was no way she would escape him, not in this lifetime. Maybe after tonight, she could run away with Finn and marry him? It would mean all her previous efforts wasted, and she would never make it out of this cow town, but who was to say she would have made anything of herself anyway? This way, at least, would mean no more nightly visits. Finn was respectful of her boundaries, and despite his many faults, he would never force himself on her, unlike _him_.

Slow down, she told herself. Finish this job tonight first, then you can think about what happens next.

"Come on up," she told him. "I'll put on some classical music, it'll be soothing and relaxing and help put us both in the mood, I promise.

...

The music and the candles definitely put them both in the mood, did too good a job, apparently. Although for Finn, it was probably the close proximity to an almost naked Quinn, his first time seeing more of her than he'd ever seen before.

"Have you no self-control?" Quinn screamed.

Finn blushed in embarrassment, clearly she had seen it – or felt it – there was no hiding anything from his girlfriend. "Shit! I-I-I'm sorry..."

Quinn huffed. "Ugh, boys! Now if I get pregnant, it's your fault! I assume you weren't wearing a condom when you did that, were you?"

"No, I wasn't... Uh... You can't get pregnant from that, right?"

"Of course, I can! The temperature of the water is 40 degree Celsius, same as our body temperature, perfect for the sperms to swim in. They don't have eyes, they wouldn't know the difference. You're young and your sperms are healthy, they can totally swim all the way into me and get me pregnant!"

Quinn knew she was telling one huge-ass lie but from the panicked wide-eyed look on Finn's face, she could tell he was buying it too. She could hardly believe how stupid her boyfriend was, but she should have guessed, Biology had never been his strong subject. Besides, it was too good an opportunity to not make use of, if she managed to convince him of the possibility of impregnating her via hot tub early, it would mean she didn't need to sleep with him tonight for this deception to work.

"Oh my God, what are we going to do? You can't get pregnant, I can't be a father, I even brought a condom and everything!"

Quinn almost felt sorry for him but pushed through with the lies. She needed to do this. "Don't worry, we can't be that unlucky, right? I'll give everything a few hours to settle, then take a urine pregnancy test to check if I'm pregnant."

"Okay…" Finn replied dumbly, clearly still in shock.

"I'll let you know later, okay? You should go now, I need to clean this place up before my mother comes home and suspects anything. Anyway, I don't think either of us is anymore mood to continue tonight."

"Yeah… Listen, I'm really sorry about _that_, okay? I didn't mean to… I really wanted tonight to be special but you're so beautiful and I couldn't help it…"

"I understand," she said firmly as she shoved his clothes into his arms. When he had changed into his clothes, she led him down the stairs, opened the door and showed him out. "Bye, Finn. I'll text you later when I find out."

With Finn out of the house, Quinn finally heaved a sigh of relief that this part of her plan was done. That had gotten better than she had expected, she thought, as she slumped against the door. She felt bad for deceiving her boyfriend, but there was no use dwelling on the guilt. She had no choice, this was the only way.

...

Finn checked his phone and nearly screamed. It was just two simple words from Quinn but he could feel his entire world come crashing down.

"I'm pregnant."


	21. Chapter 19

Guest – I'm glad too, I really didn't want to write a sex scene between Finn and Quinn. The short snippet I wrote of them making out on the couch was disturbing enough, Quinn fighting scary memories while letting Finn think they were both having enjoyable consensual sex is just about the last straw for me. I don't know much about sex, but I'm pretty sure it's meant to be beautiful and a pleasure for both parties. I really hope people don't hate her for lying to Finn too, my heart really goes out to her.

CarmellaD'Winter – So much to say but I must restrain myself to avoid giving away spoilers! I had fun writing bits of canon into the chapter. And I tried to write in how incredulous Quinn must have felt when Finn bought her outrageous lies. Schools really do need sex ed, especially if the statistics are to be believed and American kids really do have sex that young. In Singapore, sex ed is taught once at 11 and a second time at 14, and it's incorporated into our compulsory curriculum, so we pretty much learn these things while we're cramming our exams, haha. Pretty smart of the government, I must say. As for Quinn, I love how you say "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do." That sums up quite nicely Quinn's attitude towards life. Whether it's bullying Rachel or lying to Finn, she often just considers the desired endpoint and the steps she needs to take to get there, and doesn't spare a thought for the feelings of others. It makes her tough, helps her do what needs to be done but sometimes it makes her kind of a bitch.

Shana – Wow, thanks. Your "I LOVE IT" is more than enough, and you don't need to find synonyms for that, but what I appreciate more is how you go on to elaborate on your thoughts and feelings, which really helps me understand how my readers might be feeling towards my storyline. I have planned really fun stuff for the girls, so far none of my readers/reviewers have really guessed at these plans yet, so I really can't wait to see how you guys react. Love your reviews, so please keep reviewing!

Anon – Yup, that was fun. I can see how Quinn's actions/lies would displease you but I'm glad you can understand why she did what she did as well. There will definitely be fallout when the truth eventually comes out, hope she gets through it okay (:

Jenn – I'd love it if you could keep reviewing! Don't worry, you're not bad at it. I, too, was rooting very hard for Quinn to not sleep with Finn but you're the first reader to point out that her inability to sleep with – or even make out with – her boyfriend just shows how psychologically messed up she is. Unfortunately, this is not going to be a romance fic, so I doubt she'll have another chance to make out / have sex with another boy in this fic. As for stealing events from the actual show, I've always wanted to do that, since the ideas in this fic was borne out of 2 actual scenes from canon. You can read my reply to snowdrop1026's review in Chapter 5 to find out more.

JAMES-EAI – Thanks! (:

Rini – Haha! You're the only one of my readers who says that, that you don't mind waiting because the anticipation "makes you enjoy the chapter more". Thank you for that kind reassurance, glad I won't lose you as my reader even if/when I don't update as frequently as I'd like to (:

Chapter 19

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, I repeated the test three times. Why would I lie to you, do you think I _want_ to be pregnant? Do you even _remember _what happened last night?"

"I'm sorry, I told you I was sorry. What do you want to do, then?"

Quinn paused, it was now or never. "I want to deliver the baby. I don't know what I'll do with it yet, keep it or give it away, but I don't want to abort it." She searched Finn's eyes, looking for his reaction. Had she judged him rightly? Would he stay with her?

"Okay, if that's what you want, then okay. I'll support you no matter what decision you make."

"Thank you. I appreciate it, I know this is hard for you too."

Finn frowned a little. Quinn was being a little too nice to him, shouldn't she be screaming that this was his fault? Chicks were supposed to get all strange and mood swing-y when they got pregnant, right? Maybe he'd gotten lucky and her pregnancy hormones were doing the opposite, making her kinder than normal.

"I mean it," Finn assured. "I gave it a lot of thought last night. I mean, this is definitely not what I had expected out of last night, and I'm in no way ready to be a father but I'll get ready if you need me to. I'll support whatever decision you make, even if you want to (gulp) keep the baby. I'll be responsible, we'll figure something out together, I won't leave you to raise the baby on your own. After my dad died, my mom had to raise me on her own, and I know how hard it was for her, I wouldn't do that to you."

"Thank you," Quinn said sincerely. Phew, this was one less thing to worry about, she had been right after all. Finn would do right by her, and by this baby. Even though his sweetness and sincerity despite his obvious internal struggle made her feel quite guilty for the whooping big lie she was telling him, she told herself firmly that this was what she had to do. Not just for herself, but more importantly, for the little life growing inside her that was finally beginning to feel increasingly real to her.

I'll give you a life, I promise. Real parents, who'll care for you and love you and won't hurt you. I'll give you what Santana has – a real home.

…

"... So you see, I really think we should start thinking about numbers for Sectionals and trying them out, finalizing our set list. Maybe come up with a few set lists just for backup? Perhaps we could suggest to Mr Schuester to increase the frequency of our rehearsals! Even if he isn't free, I wouldn't mind putting in some extra work and leading our extra practices, I have plenty of ideas on... Finn, are you listening to me?"

"Huh? Yeah..."

"You haven't been listening to anything I've been saying for the past 10 minutes, have you?" Rachel exclaimed in exasperation. "This is important! We need to win Regionals so Principal Figgins will allow Glee club to continue, and we need to win this Sectionals to win at Regionals! If we don't do well against a bunch of juvenile delinquents and deaf students, there is no way we will be able to compete against Vocal Adrenaline. You were there, you saw them perform – they were awesome! They were all pitch perfect, dancing the most complicated choreography and still not a step out of place. You are the other leader of Glee club, and the other members listen to you more than they do to me, I need your support in this!"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Finn snapped. "I just have a lot on my mind right now."

"Like what? Call of Duty marathons?"

Finn was very tempted to tell Rachel what truly was on his mind, which he was certain was way more important than any Glee competition but he held himself back. He was sure even nice Quinn would still murder him if he told her nemesis about her biggest secret. She'd probably get away with it too, by blaming it on her crazy pregnancy hormones or something.

"Schoolwork," he told her. "I'm just falling behind on some of my subjects, that's all."

"I could help with that!" Rachel jumped in. "I've studied ahead for all my subjects at least 2 weeks in advance anyway. What subjects do you need help in, I could help tutor you, if you don't mind my inexperience? I've seen your timetable, I share many classes with you and I've completed most of the rest last year. Of course, I scored 'A's in all of them. They are mostly quite basic, you should have no problems with any of them, and should be able to score well too, with a little bit of hard work and maybe some guidance. Which subject are you weakest in? Maybe I could start tutoring you in that subject first. I agree with you, schoolwork is very important, I never knew you felt the same way, I'm glad to see that you appear to be so concerned about your academics..."

"Yea," Finn cut her off, sensing that Rachel was about to go on another of her Rachel Berry rants and potentially talk his ear off. "I'm doing worst in Biology. I totally do not understand the last topic and I can't afford another F in that class. Maybe you could teach me from that chapter? And I'll help you talk to Mr Schuester about working on Sectionals. I think everyone's a little tired of his weekly one word individual assignments anyway, it'll be nice to work on some group numbers."

"Really? That'd be great! What about next Monday after Glee practice? I know you don't have football practice then, on Mondays you guys have morning practice, right? We could speak to Mr Schuester together and then I can spend an hour or two helping you with your Biology."

"What's up with you and RuPaul?" Quinn interrupted from behind, surprising them both.

"Hey," Finn greeted at the same time as Rachel said "Hello, Quinn," although she was frowning slightly. She'd thought Quinn wasn't going to call her names anymore… wasn't that what Brittany had said?

"Back off!" Quinn snapped at her and turned to face Finn. "What are you doing talking to _her_?"

"Huh? I thought you said we didn't need to shun her anymore, since Coach Sylvester invited her to the Cheerios… You did say that, right?"

"That's not what I meant. Are you cheating on me with her?"

"No!" Finn protested.

Rachel jumped in to explain matters. "We were just discussing Glee matters and Finn shared that he was having some difficulty with his schoolwork so I volunteered to tutor him in his weaker subjects. I assure you, I wouldn't steal your boyfriend – I wouldn't dare to."

Quinn heard the jibe for what it was, a pointed reminder of the previous bullying, and she glared at Rachel again, although it had softened somewhat. "Just stay away from him," she told her fiercely. She had lost too much to that annoying midget, she wasn't about to lose her boyfriend to her too, especially not now when she really needed him, he was the best and only candidate to be her child's father. "Let's go, Finn."

Rachel sighed. She would be lying to herself if she said she didn't find Finn attractive. He was tall, very handsome and quite a gentleman, opening doors for girls and offering to help carry heavy boxes and furniture. With him a giant and herself a dwarf, their children would be just the right height too. Still, he was the star quarterback and more importantly, he belonged to the high and mighty Quinn Fabray, and was therefore way out of her league. She should just focus on Glee and not spend so much time thinking about him.

Anyway, her mom would be here soon, to drive her to the hospital. It was Thursday – time for another change of dressings. She could hardly believe she had managed to keep all her bandages clean and dry so far, she really ought to be more thankful to Quinn for stopping the slushies. And one way to demonstrate her thankfulness would be to stop staring at her boyfriend.

...

"Hello again," Martha greeted with a smile as Rachel walked into the room. "Where's your mom?"

"Good afternoon, Nurse Martha. Mom is at the administration office, helping me to book my appointments. Apparently, I have to see a dietician, a psychiatrist _and_ a developmental pediatrician. And follow up with Dr Lopez, my neurosurgeon and primary doctor as well," she told her. She tried to keep her displeasure at the numerous upcoming medical appointments out of her voice, but couldn't help wrinkling her nose slightly in disgust.

Martha smiled at the childish gesture. She was glad for Rachel's more casual demeanour, which showed she was feeling more comfortable with her. She looked happier too, more relaxed, her posture less tense than when she'd first met her in the hospital. Her face was also rosier, slightly more filled out, although she still looked too small to be considered healthy.

Rachel loosened her clothing and rolled up her shirt, lying down prone on the patient's couch as Martha closed the curtains around them. She'd had numerous dressings changes by now and was familiar with the drill.

"Looking a lot better," Martha commented. "How bad is the pain?"

"It barely hurts anymore," Rachel said with a smile.

While it was true that her injuries were healing well, they had been horrendous to start with and still looked terrible. At least all the cuts had clotted well and weren't bleeding anymore, judging by the clean white bandages that covered them. They had also lost that angry inflamed red that had previously indicated they were infected. The blisters, too, had all closed up and weren't opening and weeping fluid with every small movement. Nevertheless, her entire abdomen and back were still covered by bruises that hadn't gone away yet, merely faded to a dark greenish- brown. The painful looking welts that had covered her back and bottom had hardly gone down, and were mostly still an agonising purplish-red. At least those on her thighs were no longer swollen and had faded to criss crossing faint bluish lines that were well on their way to disappearing soon.

No matter how quickly she was healing, there was no way she was 'barely' feeling any pain, she must still be in a considerable amount of discomfort from these extensive injuries. She'd seen older adults with less severe wounds screaming in pain. She shook her head at the stoicism of her young patient and set to work cleaning those wounds and changing her dressings as gently as possible.

"How's your mom?"

"She's alright, I think... I wasn't aware there was anything wrong with her?" Rachel queried with a confused look on her face.

Martha laughed. "I meant, how's living with your mom? Is she treating you well?"

"Oh. She's great! She's treating me very well; she's been very kind, very lenient with me. You know, she bought me new clothes! Really nice and expensive ones too. She sends me off to bed at 9 every night, makes me rest all the time, and lets me eat all three meals, even preparing lunches for me for when I have to stay back in school. She's really been taking very good care of me, see my back is all healed up now! It's never healed so quickly before."

Martha didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Yes, you're recovering quite nicely but your back is by no means 'all healed up', " she chided gently. "You still have to continue taking good care of your injuries, but if you continue healing at this rate, you can definitely change to the smaller, waterproof bandages by Saturday, as planned. I bet you miss showering on your own. How's your chest? Are the bruised ribs giving you any problems?"

"Not at all, your taping is fantastic. Plus my mom hasn't allowed me to exert myself in any way, she doesn't let me help her with _anything_ at home, and she even drives me everywhere so I don't have to walk. Please, can't you shorten your imposed ban on all my activities? I promise you I'll be fine."

Martha shook her head. "Nope, I'm sorry, you are healing quite well and look much better, but that is not my decision to make. You'll have to wait until your appointment with Dr Lopez on Saturday." This was one time she was glad she was a nurse and not a doctor, 'doctor's orders' was the best excuse in her repertoire of weapons to use against bargaining patients. This particular patient, however, tugged strongly at her heart strings as the girl sighed and pouted a little, resting her chin on crossed forearms.

"What are you in such a hurry to get back to? Dancing?"

"No," Rachel replied. "I... I haven't been helping out around the house much. My mom's really tired from moving across states and massive amounts of paperwork, and I want to help, with the moving, or the housework or anything she needs getting done, but whenever I'm home, she just tells me to go to my room and rest."

"All done," Martha declared, and allowed Rachel to redress herself and get off the couch. "Most teenagers I know would love an excuse to get out of household chores, that's one of the best things about being sick, isn't it? Being pampered by your parents, not having to help out around the house?"

Rachel shot her an incredulous look and Martha returned with a wry smile. This girl was certainly different from most teenagers she knew, including her own children.

"Why don't you ask your mom?" she suggested. "Tell her you feel fine and ask her what she might need help with. Mind you, you're still on activity restriction, so you're to stick to only less strenuous activities, okay? Preferably stationary with no heavy lifting. Remember, you're seeing Dr Lopez on Saturday, and you want him to be satisfied with your recovery process. Not that I don't enjoy your company, but after Saturday, I don't want to be seeing you here anymore, except just to _visit_, is that clear? Take care of yourself, please, and no more fights either, you look much prettier without a black eye and busted lips."

Rachel smiled despite the scolding tone of the motherly nurse. "Yes, ma'am, I'll try that. Thank you. I'm sorry I've been such a trouble to you."

"Good," Martha declared, her face softening to a smile. "You've been no trouble at all, see you on Saturday. Remember, clean bandages again, okay?"

...

"The nurse told me that you're recovering nicely," Shelby told Rachel as she drove her home from the hospital.

"Yes, mom."

"That's great, I'm glad you're taking good care of yourself."

"Yes, mom."

For the next few minutes, they both fell quiet, neither knowing what else to say. The silence felt awkward. Rachel searched her mom's face for any clues as to whether she was angry or upset, but couldn't tell either way. At least her words had sounded rather approving.

Shelby drove along, mind occupied, trying to list everything she needed to do. Looking through the quotations for soundproofing her office, sweeping the floor, buying groceries for tonight's dinner...

"I'll drop you off at home and go to the store to buy groceries, okay? I shouldn't take more than half an hour."

"Could I come with you? I could help you push the trolley or carry the bags."

"Thanks for offering but there's no need for that, I'm not buying that much. Go home and rest, you've had a long day. Besides, you didn't bring your Tramadol out, did you?"

Rachel shook her head.

"Nurse Martha said changing the dressings can sometimes be quite painful, so go home and take some. I know they make you sleepy, so have a good rest. You can nap before dinner and start on your schoolwork after dinner... Or have you already finished your schoolwork?"

Rachel nodded and Shelby smiled at her predictability. "Then just go and have a good rest."

"Is there anything I could help you with? I'm not tired nor am I in any pain. Nurse Martha did tell you I'm recovering well, didn't she? And it's true, I feel fine."

"Just rest anyway, there's not much I need to do either, just sweep the floor and prepare dinner, that's all. Study ahead then, if you don't feel like resting. Your course load seems pretty heavy for a student in sophomore year, you must be pretty swamped with studying. Don't you have a test coming up?"

"Okay," Rachel replied, a little disappointed. She had already finished the practice questions twice over, it would be kind of boring to attempt them a third time.

"Bye, Rachel," Shelby said, as she came to a stop in front of their house.

"Bye, Mom, see you later."

Rachel walked through the front door and surveyed her house. It was the first time she was alone at home and could really look around without her mom telling her to go up to her room to rest. She knew her mom meant well, but it was getting a little annoying – she wasn't elderly or an invalid, she didn't need _that _much rest!

Making up her mind, she headed to the cupboard in the kitchen where she to retrieve the broom and dustpan. The house _was_ getting quite dusty, dustier than she would have allowed it to get if she were still living at home with her fathers, and it needed a good cleaning. It was probably all the unpacking and moving things around that her mom had been doing. She wasn't allowed to help with the unpacking, and didn't know anything about preparing dinner, but the least she could do was help sweep the floor. Sweeping was definitely not a strenuous activity, surely Nurse Martha wouldn't disapprove.

...

"Rachel, I'm home."

"Hey, mom," Rachel greeted, holding two glasses of ice water. "Want some water?" She'd just managed to keep the broom and dustpan when she heard her mom's car enter their driveway. She wasn't certain why she'd felt the need to deceive her mom by pouring the glasses of water to give herself a reason to be in the kitchen. It wasn't like sweeping the floor was some big crime, but she didn't want her to know she had been sweeping the floor instead of resting in her room like her mom had instructed her to.

"Yep, sure," Shelby replied, putting down the bags to accept the glass of water. "How did you know I was coming home?"

"I heard your car drive in while I was pouring myself a glass of water, so I thought you might want one too. What's for dinner?" Rachel asked as she carried the bags to the kitchen and looked through the items in them. She caught the disapproving look on her mom's face and rushed to reassure her. "I'm fine, don't worry, it's just a few bags. You said so yourself, you didn't buy much."

"Okay, you're right, I guess I shouldn't worry so much." Shelby said, trying her best to squash her inner protective instincts. "We're having vegetable casserole. I'll just sweep the floor then start preparing dinner."

Shelby looked down at the floor and rubbed her feet against the marble flooring. "But the floor appears quite clean, so I suppose I could postpone that till tomorrow. Go up to your room, dinner should be ready in about half an hour."

"May I help you prepare dinner, please?"

"There's no need to, it's just casserole, it's very simple to prepare."

"Please? I'd like to learn how to cook," Rachel explained. "My fathers don't cook, we were pretty committed to takeout, so I never had a chance to learn. Will you teach me? It's good to start learning with the simple dishes, right?"

Shelby hesitated and Rachel continued.

"I really do feel fine, I'm not sleepy nor am I in any pain. Cooking is a very stationary activity, I won't re-open any of the cuts just by standing there watching you… or maybe helping you to wash the vegetables or chop up some ingredients?" Rachel put on her best 'puppy dog' face. "Please, mom?" she pleaded.

Shelby relented. "Alright, come on. Now the first thing you need to know about cooking is to make sure you know what you want to cook, how many people you're cooking for, and check that you have all the ingredients you need. Better to make sure you have everything right from the start, rather than find out halfway that you're short of some condiments or have insufficient ingredients to feed everyone, and have to run out and buy more."

Removing the packages from the grocery bag, she continued the lesson. "So here's what we need, to make vegetable casserole for two…"


	22. Waiting

Ajunebuga - Thanks! I love putting canon moments into my fic, and it's always nice when fellow glee fans notice them :)

CarmellaD'Winter - Sorry, no Russell/Quinn in this chapter. It's Friday already, though, which if you remember, is the day Russell is coming home, so look forward to it!

NZgleek91 - I'm looking forward to Quinn's situation exploding too, but maybe that's because I know what's going to happen after that. Sorry, there isn't much advancement on Quinn's front in this chapter, but it's coming, I promise.

shiniso - Wow, maybe I should slow down on my updates, huh? Nah, I don't think I will, at least not until I rescue poor Quinn. I never planned for Finn and Quinn to have sex all along, in the long run I think it would have done more harm than good to the both of them. I think as the story progresses, most people will root for Quinn as well but remember, Finn doesn't know what you know. He is a typical naive teenage boy whose girlfriend is finally putting out for him, and before he even managed to get anywhere with her, he impregnated her via 'hot tub'. I honestly feel kinda bad for him as well.

gycah18 – I'm from Singapore, not Europe or North America, so my language abilities are more towards English, Mandarin and a smattering of Malay and Hokkien/Teochew (Chinese dialects). Thank God for google, though, which translated your review into "I love it, it is very realistic and exciting fanfiction" for me. If that's the case, thank you very much, I strive to make it as realistic as possible. Unlike most people, I have some experience with children of such abuse, and writing this story is one of the ways in which I work out my thoughts and emotions on the subject matter.

Friggin' Team Free Will / Kas – I feel bad for Finn too, but it can't be helped. I hope when the truth comes out, he'll understand. As for your nervousness on Quinn's behalf, I assume it's because you know that Russell is returning home on Friday, which is advancing closer with each chapter?

Dogluvertoo – Not my favourite thing to happen to Quinn either, but I wanted to get it out there that these things happen. Rachel will start to recover, and although she's still quite psychologically damaged and expects the worst of Shelby, I wanted to contrast her recovery with Quinn's situation. Even if Rachel expects Shelby to start punishing her any day now, we all know Shelby would never do that, whereas Quinn is still at home and in danger of her father's impending return.

Shana – Wow, thanks for that long review! I'd much rather have these than synonyms of 'love', haha. I know most of my readers are worried about Quinn, but unfortunately, I'm a slow storyteller. Hope you enjoy the story in the meantime, and don't mind the wait. True, there's no Rachel or Puck to spill the beans, no one but Quinn knows. She's a very private person, and quite a loner too.

Guest – I'm nervous for Quinn too. I haven't gotten round to writing her story yet, I've still got a bit more of Shelby/Rachel to go, but Quinn's situation is definitely worrisome. She'll get out of there, though, I promise.

Rini – I think Shelby and Rachel are still adjusting to each other. Shelby doesn't want to make Rachel do anything like chores that might 1) impede her healing, or 2) make her think Shelby is like her fathers. She has many suspicions of what Rachel's fathers did to her, but Rachel hasn't told her any of it yet, because she doesn't think there's anything to tell. The strict room imprisonment is getting to Rachel, but although she's too obedient to protest, any teenager who's been grounded to her room knows how boring and frustrating it is. In Shelby's defence, any parent whose child has half of Rachel's current injuries (however well it's healing) would totally freak out and place them on permanent bed rest. I'm not giving away anything about Quinn, hope you continue to enjoy their stories (:

Jenn – Judy, oh Judy. I have quite a number of ideas about what's going on in her head but haven't seriously written much about her yet. Don't worry, you'll hear from her soon, and I'll try my best to explain, among other things, what would make a mother ignore her daughter while her husband rapes said daughter. She's just as screwed up in the head as Russell is. I would beg Quinn-haters to consider that with parents like that, Quinn turned out remarkably normal. Thanks for your praises. It really makes my day and motivates me to continue writing. Yes, the subjects are hard, but now the pressure is off to write graphically (since I actually have to imagine the actual scenes happening before my eyes which is hard and really disturbing), I'm really enjoying focusing on bringing out the characters' emotions.

**A/N. Another short chapter, sorry about that. I actually wrote a lot more but am facing some problems editing it, so I moved those parts to the next chapter. At least you get to look forward to a longer chapter next week, right? (:**

Chapter 20. Waiting

"Sorry, I have to run more errands today as well, so I'll drop you off first," Shelby said. "Go up to your room and do your homework - or rest, if you've finished it. I'll be home by 5, okay?"

"Yes, mom."

"Love you, Rachel. See you later."

Rachel sighed. She'd had such a good time helping to cook dinner yesterday, she'd thought her room imprisonment was over but apparently she was wrong. Since she was discharged from the hospital on Sunday, her mom had expected to stay either in her bed or at her desk every day, and frankly, she was bored out of her wits. She'd already unpacked all her things and tidied her room until there wasn't a speck of dust left, and had finished studying way ahead in all her classes as well. This boredom and idleness was a very unfamiliar feeling that she wasn't sure she liked. She would much rather be kept busy and productive.

She thought back to helping her mom in the kitchen last night with a smile. Actually, it had been less her helping her mom and more her mom teaching her.

Cooking was really harder than it looked, especially using the knife to cut up the ingredients. They had taken longer than her mom's predicted half an hour to just prepare all the ingredients, because her mom had let her do most of it. Her mom had held the knife so expertly and sliced the carrots into thin even slices with such ease, but when she had tried, the slices came out in thick, uneven chunks. Her mom hadn't gotten angry with her, though, hadn't even scolded, much less punished her. Instead, her mom had clasped her hand over hers, guiding her motions and helping her gain proper control of the knife until she got the rhythm of it.

_"I'm sorry," Rachel apologized, hanging her head in shame._

_"What for?"_

_"The carrots. I did such a poor job of cutting them, they look so ugly."_

_"Hey, don't worry about it. Your second try was much better, wasn't it?"_

_"Still not as nice as yours. They were uneven, and some were too thick."_

_"It was a commendable job," Shelby reassured her, "especially considering you've never cooked before. You're quite a quick learner, improved a lot in such a short period of time, you'll be cooking better than me in no time."_

_Rachel still looked nervous and hesitant, which did not escape Shelby's notice. She tried to reassure her. "Don't worry, our stomachs can't tell the difference between nice and 'ugly' carrot slices. It'll just turn everything into mush. The important thing is that it tastes good and I'm sure it will. Do you know why?"_

_Rachel shook her head._

_"Because we cooked it together." Shelby explained. "Food always tastes better when you prepare it yourself, and tastes best when you prepare it together as a family. One of my favorite childhood memories was learning how to cook from my mom, and I really enjoyed sharing this with you."_

_"I enjoyed this too, learning how to cook from you."_

_"I'm glad."_

_Rachel glanced at her watch. "5 more minutes till the casserole is ready, right? I'll go set the table?"_

_"Okay," Shelby said, smiling at Rachel's eagerness to help her. "Thanks, dear."_

She could hardly believe how kind and lenient her mom was towards her. It went against everything her fathers had taught her. From young, it has been drilled into her that substandard work had to be punished severely so she would learn to put in more effort and do a better job. Even if it was her first attempt at something new, that was still no excuse. In fact, if she had been the one who had offered up that excuse, it would only have led to more anger and worse punishments. Nevertheless, she couldn't say she didn't appreciate her mother's leniency, didn't prefer to the beatings and punishments and pain that she was so used to.

It felt wrong, though, like a guilty pleasure. She deserved the punishments, she shouldn't be glad her mom wasn't doling them out to her. She should be thankful to be punished, grateful for the time and effort her fathers took to discipline her and help make her better. But instead, she felt more thankful at _not_ being punished.

"Dad was right, I'm an ungrateful bitch," she said out loud, with no small amount of self-hatred. "No wonder they finally threw me out for good." All alone in the house with nothing else to do, she allowed herself to feel the extent of grief and despair at having been kicked out by her fathers without even a word of goodbye. Even if she knew, logically, that it was her own fault, the sense of abandonment was still overwhelming.

Still, just because she had screwed things up with her fathers, it didn't mean she had to repeat history with her mom. She would do everything right this time, show her mom she was grateful for everything she was doing for her. When her mom finally lost her patience with her and started punishing her, she would be more gracious in accepting her discipline, more sincere in thanking her. She wouldn't get into any more fights or any other situations that could allow others to discover her punishment marks either, like Nurse Jasmine and Coach Sylvester had done.

She couldn't afford to lose her mom as well, she was pretty sure she had no more parents lurking in secret corners waiting to claim her if she screwed up again. It was a miracle in itself that she was lucky enough to have three parents, when most people had only two, and an even bigger miracle that her mom had came all the way from New York to retrieve her after the CPS fiasco, giving her a second chance to do things right this time.

How was she supposed to do that, though? Aside from preparing dinner together last night, her mom had hardly said anything to her these few days. They had probably talked more in the two days she was warded at the hospital than these past five days. Shelby was always so busy, and when she was done being busy, she always looked so tired and kept telling Rachel to 'go to your room and rest'. How could she demonstrate her thankfulness to her mom, show her mom that she was a useful daughter worth keeping when her mom didn't even allow her to help her out at all? She had hoped last night would change things, but apparently not, she was once again under orders to 'rest', she thought with no small amount of frustration.

Did her mom think she was too incompetent to do anything right? Or was she getting bored of her? She recalled what Shelby had said about wanting a baby – Was she beginning to realize that raising a teenage daughter was not as fun as she had imagined it would be? A teenage daughter who couldn't even chop carrots properly. Was she regretting bringing Rachel home, especially now that it was clear her fathers didn't want her anymore either? Rachel paced around in the room. She couldn't let that happen. Her fathers had made it clear she was no longer welcome at their house, she couldn't lose her mom too. But staying up here in her room everyday wasn't going to help her achieve that, she needed to do something to prove to her mom she was worth keeping.

Maybe Shelby was just busy, she told herself. Maybe she wasn't tired of her, she was just busy with the unpacking and the cleaning that she didn't have as much time to spend with Rachel, especially now that she was well and discharged from the hospital. Rachel continued pacing. Her being well now just meant she should help out around the house, right? Maybe if she proved to her mom that she knew how to do household chores properly, she would let her help out more often. And maybe if she helped her mom more often, she wouldn't be so busy and they could talk. Or maybe they could talk while they unpacked or did the housework. Yesterday was a perfect example – because she'd helped sweep the floor, her mom had had time to teach her to prepare dinner. She had managed to make herself useful with the household chores _and_ they'd gotten to spend time together. Her mom had enjoyed it too, she'd said so herself.

Rachel checked the time. It was still 4pm. Shelby said she'd be home by 5. That left her with an hour of free time with nothing to do. She recalled this morning at breakfast, the way Shelby had wrinkled her nose at the sticky floor. Rachel had swept it clean yesterday, but it still needed a good mopping. This house was bigger than her fathers', though, would an hour be enough? She'd barely made it in time yesterday. Making up her mind, she hurried to the toilet to grab the mop and fill up a pail of soap water.

As she started mopping the floor, she recalled the last time she had done so at her fathers' house. It was one of the few recent good memories she had, one of the rare nights when they weren't angry with her and hadn't punished her. Dinner had been casual, they had even asked her about how school had been, and she shared with them about what was going on in Glee club. Her chest ached at the memory of her fathers - she missed them so much!

Still, she had no time to waste on reminiscing, she told herself, she was working on a deadline here.

...

The dining room was still with only the clinking of silverware to disturb the silence as Quinn and her mother ate their dinner. Quinn ate as quickly as she politely could, she never could tolerate the awkward silence between herself and her mother when they were alone together. There was so much she always wanted to ask her, even more so now that she was, oh God, pregnant, but it was like there was a solid glass wall between the two of them that she never felt capable of breaching. They had never spoken about anything personal before, their conversations limited to school, Cheerios and social events. From the distant look in her mother's face, tonight was no different.

"Your father's flight was delayed, he'll be home around nine."

Quinn froze. Her mind had been so consumed by thoughts of Finn and her pregnancy, she had almost forgotten that today was Friday, the day her father was due home. The first time she'd be seeing him again after the fiasco that was Sunday night. She swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat, all her previous appetite having left her abruptly.

Judy showed no sign that she had taken any notice of Quinn's obvious distress and continued eating her dinner nonchalantly.

"May I leave the table now, Mother?" Quinn asked, staring at her mother, begging her to look up and meet her eyes, to react just once, to show any sign that she was aware of what would happen when her father came home. "I'm not hungry and I have a lot of homework to do," she explained.

Judy looked at Quinn. Russell would normally require Quinn to clear her plate, or at least wait until everyone was finished before taking her leave. Table manners were important, he always emphasized, and if he were here, Quinn would have landed on the floor with a bright red handprint on her face now. Still, he wasn't here now and she honestly couldn't care less.

"Sure. Make sure you stay in your room and do your work, I'm sure he'll want to _check on you _when he returns. You know how important your schoolwork is to him."


	23. Waiting II

bueller - Yup, I plan to include the trial for Rachel's dads but it'll be a few months down the line, I think. The US legal system usually takes quite long, right? That, and there's still quite a fair bit of Rachel, Shelby and Quinn's story I want to tell before the trial comes. You're right, Rachel would be very defensive of her fathers. But hopefully her time spent with Shelby would have mellowed her out somewhat? One can always hope! I try not to show bias, but I find Rachel's story more interesting too, and I think it shows. Oh well, at least I think you're one of the few readers who won't kill me for focusing too much on Rachel this chapter when I just revealed last chapter that Quinn is coming home.

Guest - I know, I know, it's the same kind of reaction towards the other three evil parents, right? Except the Berry men can't get to Rachel anymore, and Russell is still on a plane returning from DC, so we haven't seen any action from them in a while. Your anger towards Judy is completely understandable. Sorry about not saying more about Quinn's situation this chapter, it's coming in a couple of chapters, I promise!

CarmellaD'Winter - Haha. Oh wow, liking to read about Quinn's fear sounds wrong somehow. Rachel's mind is lovely to write. She's (thankfully) no longer living with her dads, but through her over-thinking of every situation, especially those in relation to her mom, a lot of what she went through in the past is brought up or at least, hinted at.

Gleek101 - Wow, hmm... I'm curious, why did you pick Shelby to be Quinn's guardian? The following day will be a few chapters in coming, but I'm sure Rachel is looking forward to a nice long bath! As for the rest of the storyline you've written for 'my' characters, I can confirm that eventually, as secrets are revealed, Quinn and Rachel will develop a deeper friendship as well, one that's more real and not just based on Quinn's guilt.

NZgleek91 – Oh dear, did you consider that a cliffhanger? That spells bad news for me, seeing as what's worse than a cliffhanger is not continuing the plot of the cliffhanger in the following chapter. -Pulls out rocks from skin-  
(My next thought was "Thankfully, I know how to do toileting and suturing of the wounds", but I recognize that that's quite a morbid thought, hmm. I really should limit the sharing of such thoughts to healthcare workers only.)

Shana - Oh dear. Lack of sleep can be terribly detrimental to a person's health, and humans can only survive about 2 weeks without sleep before the brain shuts down. I believe the record is 18 days. Anyway, I'm sorry for causing your insomnia! It's true, I have given very little clues as to what will happen to Quinn. Any guesses from you as to where she will end up? Honestly, I only considered two families before I made my final decision. I'm glad you still like that I'm a slow storyteller in spite of my killing you and robbing you of your sleep. It's great to see that you care so much for my two girls, it shows me that they've become somewhat real to you. :D

ajunebuga - I hope so too! Thanks for being so concerned for Rachel, that's almost a thought I think Shelby would have (:

Friggin' Team Free Will / Kas - I hope so too, but unfortunately if nothing happens to Quinn, she'll likely never get out of that horror house. As for dear Rachel, unfortunately, she will need to express all these nonsense she's thinking of in her head before someone can explain how false they are to her.

Anon - Oh man, you're the second person to have called that a cliff hanger. I am _so_ sorry for not continuing much from there. Please read my Author's Note for more explanation. Yes, Quinn's parents are monsters, her situation is truly horrific, and I promise I'll address it soon. -Hides- But by the way, you being so invested in this story is truly high praise indeed. I hope I can live up to that (:

Jenn - I can't believe you're looking forward to Russell's return either, but I understand where you're coming from. I, on the other hand, already know where she's going after her rescue and for the life of me, I can't bear to put pen to paper (figuratively, of course, since in real life, it's more like putting fingers to iPad) and write it. I'll figure it out, I promise, otherwise you guys are going to have to wait really long for that chapter. I love Shelby too. I know she's very uncertain and inexperienced, but that makes it so much more endearing that she's trying so hard for Rachel's sake. She has the same fears of raising a teenage daughter as canon Shelby does, the only difference is she's trying her best to overcome them (:

Guest – Sorry about the length, I did warn you guys about my shorter chapters from now on, right? Can't be helped, real life does come first. As for Beth, hmm… you'll just have to wait and find out, I suppose? I know her existence, even if still unnamed and in Quinn's womb, makes my readers feel awful. I'm a female and I feel awful for her too, but that's the point. If this dilemna makes us adults who are not even in any way involved in the actual situation feel so troubled, just imagine what havoc it is doing in Quinn's 16-year-old mind. And it's not like she has decent parents to turn to, she's all alone here, trying to figure things out by herself.

shiniso – Haha! Don't worry, I think the once a week updates should still be coming out on time. I'll try my best to make it happen, at least until Quinn is safe. I have lots planned for after that, but it's just this 'rescue' bits that are harder I anticipated to write. Like Rachel, she's going to have one heck of a recovery process, but there'll be good times too. Like I said, I have many plans for both girls (:

Rini - Oh dear, you're the 3rd person to consider that a cliffy ): It wasn't my intention! My intention was just to slowly tell Rachel's and Quinn's story, contrasting them to each other, that's all, but I guess the slowness at which I tell my story makes people want to find out what happens next, and thus, makes it a cliffhanger. Sorry! As for Quinn, I'm not going to reveal what's going to happen to her but you might be glad to know that you my readers will be spared the worst of the descriptions. Due to the 'M' rating instead of 'MA', I'm going to try my hand at writing Quinn/Russell scenes in a more implied fashion. To me, that's worse, because you're not told what happened and your imagination is left to run wild, but that's just me, I guess. Oh well, _hang_ in there... don't fall off the cliff :P

**A/N. Sorry for the once again, short chapter. A longer A/N has been placed at the end of this chapter, because 1) I don't want to give you spoilers, and 2) I would like for you to finish reading this chapter before you stone me. Lastly, just wanted to thank all my 102 favourite-rs and 229 story followers! While I reply to most of my reviewers (250 reviews!) every update, I don't mention you guys as much but that doesn't mean I'm not also extremely thankful for you who form my faithful readership (:  
It still amazes me that my barely 3-month-old story has been so well-received despite being my first attempt at writing fiction in the past decade. I'm extremely humbled and grateful and will continue to try my best to finish writing this story (:  
**

Chapter 21. Waiting II

Rachel had finished mopping the floor of all the rooms, both upstairs and downstairs, and was halfway through the living room when she heard the jiggling of keys and the front door opening. She glanced at the wall clock and realized it was already 5.05pm. Shit! Her mind raced, trying to think of an explanation that could make her presence in the living room holding a mop more acceptable but none came to mind. She was caught in the act this time, there was no way she was going to be able to deceive her mom today.

Shelby opened the door to her new home, thinking of how she had neglected to sweep the floor yesterday and hence needed to sweep _and_ mop the floor today… ugh, she really hated housework.

She kicked off her high heels, placed them on the shoe rack and entered her house. Stepping into the living room with stocking-clad feet, she barely had time to register Rachel's surprised face with guilt written all over it, before she took a step forward and promptly slipped, landing with a loud thud on a remarkably clean and very wet floor, too shocked to even have tried to grab something or break her fall. As she landed, her elbow hit the small table beside her, the force knocking over a small glass figurine, which promptly shattered into pieces.

"Owwwww," she moaned, rubbing at her sore ass, taking care to avoid the scattered glass pieces on the floor. Which idiot was mopping the floor and made it so wet? She swore out loud, before realizing only one person could have done it. Someone who was supposed to be on bed rest, not mopping the floor. And that someone was rushing towards her with an even more guilty look on her face.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" she demanded, glaring at Rachel, the pain in her bum making her voice harsher than usual.

Rachel's heart beat wildly in her chest as she saw her mom slip and fall to the ground – slip on the floor that she had made wet while mopping and had failed to dry before her mom came home, thus resulting in her fall.

_Stupid idiot!_ She cursed at herself in her head. _You can never do anything right, can you?_

She ran towards her mom, almost slipping on the wet floor herself when she got near, but managed to shift her centre of gravity forward and fell to her knees instead, skidding to a stop right in front of her mother. "Mom, are you okay? I'm so sorry, I…" she began but was cut off when she her mom yelled at her. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"I'm sorry…" she apologized again, as she knelt up properly, lifting her bum from her legs. She was certain her mom would want to transfer the pain in her own bum onto her errant daughter's, only her punishment would be a thousand times worse than the hurt a fall on a wet floor would cause. She laced her hands at the back of her bowed head, waiting to see which would come first, the scolding or the beating. She'd made it thus far without getting punished but she was sure to get it good this time, especially since her previous injuries were already more or less healed. Taking into account that the floor was indeed terribly wet, since she had just mopped it and hadn't dried it yet, she widened the distance between her knees a little, to stabilize herself and ensure she didn't fall over too easily when the beating started. She didn't want to be accused of trying to dodge her well-deserved punishment as well.

Why couldn't she have been just a little faster? Just 5 more minutes and she would have finished mopping the floor and no one would have been any the wiser. Then, her mom would be fine now and might even be agreeing to teach her how to cook dinner again, just like yesterday. Instead, she was now left to pay the price for her slowness and laziness.

Shelby sighed. They had been getting along so well, she should have known that it wouldn't last. She watched in horror as Rachel knelt beside her and assumed a ridiculous posture, head bowed, hands behind her head. A week ago, she wouldn't have known what her daughter was doing or expecting from her, but given their history, Shelby was pretty certain that Rachel was "positioning herself properly for punishment", expecting Shelby to hit her.

That thought alone filled her with rage at Rachel's bastard fathers and she reached up, grabbing Rachel's right arm and pulling it down. "No!" she shouted, more loudly than she had intended to. "Get out of this posture this instant! Why are you doing this, I'm not going to hit you."

Rachel froze in fear. Her mom sounded terribly angry but wasn't giving her any clear instructions. What did she want from her? She saw her mom's raised hand moving towards her face and closed her eyes, hoping for just a slap but bracing herself for a blow. Instead, she felt her mom tug at her arm. She resisted for a brief moment before she realized what she was doing and relaxed her arm, allowing it to be pulled away from her head. When her mom released it mid-air without further instructions, she opened her eyes and looked at her. Shelby was shouting at her to "get out of this position" but gave no clue as to what she expected of her. Slowly, she stretched her right arm out in front of her, palm facing upwards, thinking that maybe her mom had wanted it off her head because she was going to hit her on her palms instead. It was one of the few parts of her body that weren't accessible when she was in her standard kneeling position.

Shelby looked away and took a deep breath to calm down. Anger only made things worse, she reminded herself, as she took in Rachel's submissive form, her right arm stretched out in front of her as thought waiting to be hit. Shelby clasped her hands round Rachel's right hand, more gently this time, and pulled it down to her lap.

"Remember what I told you at the hospital, Rachel? I said I wouldn't beat you. And I'm not going to, not now, not ever."

"But that was for when we were at the hospital and I wasn't feeling well. The infection should be gone by now, I just took my last pill of antibiotic this morning."

"Not _ever_," Shelby emphasized. "I'm never going to hit you. Please stop this."

"But I hurt you," Rachel insisted.

"No! No, no, no." _My god, I sound like an idiot._ "_I_ was the one who slipped and fell, you didn't hurt me. Although I have no idea what you're doing mopping the floor when I distinctly remember telling you to go rest in your room, you didn't hurt me, I fell down on my own."

Rachel bit her lip as her mom reminded her of her disobedience. Disobedience was one wrongdoing that often earned her some of her worst punishments. It showed disrespect, insolence, defiance. Dad always said defiance needed to be beaten out of her, and it was true, after a thorough beating, there would never be a trace of defiance left in her, she would agree to just about anything for the pain to stop. She remained silent, unsure of what to reply her mom.

"Please put your arms down," Shelby instructed, reaching up to grab her left arm, more gently this time.

Rachel did not resist, and allowed her mom to move her left arm down to her lap as well. She barely noticed the action, her eyes were still focused on her mom, waiting for some instruction or clue as to what was expected of her.

"I'm sorry I was in the wrong position, I didn't know what position you wanted me in. Dad usually lets me put my hands on my head and hold each other there, so I don't put my hands in the way of the beating," she explained. "It keeps them out of the way and would give you full access to hit me anywhere you want. Well, almost anywhere. Sometimes, if I don't do so, I can't control myself and try to block the punishment blows." She coloured in embarrassment at her own lack of self-control. "I know it's defiance, but often I can't help it, that's why Dad allows me to hold my own hands back."

Shelby could feel the rage welling up in her again, threatening to explode. No, she couldn't lose her temper, not in front of her daughter.

"Go up to your room," she told Rachel, keeping her voice as even as possible.

"But... What about my punishment?" Rachel asked. It wasn't that she _wanted_ to get punished, but she would really much rather get this over and done with now than wait till later.

"Just write me an essay. Write about what you did wrong and how you think you should be punished. We'll talk about this later. Go now."

Rachel obeyed immediately, although if she had looked back, she would have seen her mom sit heavily against the wall, hold her head in her hands, and cry.

…

"I can't do this again," Shelby thought. "I can't have another conversation with my daughter about how she thinks she's going to get punished." She knew it was cowardly of her, but at least reading an essay would mean she didn't have to hear those words coming out of her daughter's mouth. Just thinking of the few words she'd said filled her with such anger that threatened to consume her.

She sat on the floor and held her face in her hands, overwhelmed with frustration.

Seriously, what the hell was wrong with Rachel's fathers? They _allowed_ her to hold her hands to the back of her head, to keep them out of the way of the beating? _Allowed_? As if it was some kind allowance or great privilege. It was only human nature to want to protect yourself from impending bodily harm, what the hell was wrong with them? And anyway, what did she fear so much that she would hold herself motionless waiting to be hit? What worse punishment was there than the beating she was expecting to receive? And how could she talk about this "allowance" so nonchalantly, almost pleading Shelby to grant her the same "kindness"?

And of course Rachel had to misunderstand her yet again, _apologising_ for being in the wrong position. Asking what position she ought to adopt, then sticking out her palm, expecting to be hit there. What the hell was wrong with her? Did she possess no instincts of self-preservation?

The look of guilt and fear in Rachel's face haunted her. Why was she so frightened of her? She thought they'd gotten along quite well these past few days, Rachel had even looked like she had quite enjoyed learning to cook last night, something which Shelby had hoped she didn't think of as a chore. So why was Rachel suddenly so afraid of her again? What had she done wrong this time?

Shelby sighed. Maybe she didn't know what she had done wrong to frighten her daughter, but she definitely knew what she had done wrong after that. Sending Rachel up to her room was not just cowardly, it was selfish - who knew what Rachel was thinking of upstairs? Especially when assigned that kind of essay topic... Damn, she really shouldn't have done that. Knowing Rachel, she was probably thinking that her mom needed suggestions on how to punish her, or some ridiculous idea like that.

She knew she should go up to talk to Rachel, and that this talk was one that she would probably need to repeat many times before it sunk in. Rachel believing that she could be physically punished now that her infection had cleared up made sense in a warped sort of way, it wasn't her fault, Shelby told herself, years of abuse weren't going to be so simply wiped away with just one conversation. It would take months, maybe even years, of therapy and living in a safe household before Rachel realized she wasn't going to be beaten for every tiny perceived error.

Making up her mind, she got up from the floor and made her way up the stairs, ignoring the mop thrown haphazardly on the floor and the strewn glass pieces by the door. Cleaning up could wait, first she had a daughter to check up on.

...

Meanwhile, in her room, Rachel paced a bit before sitting down at her desk to start on her essay. It felt weird, sitting down comfortably when she was supposed to be punished. She knew the essay couldn't possibly be all the punishment she was going to get. She knew, too, that if an offence was not punished immediately, she was in for something worse.

Her only fault had been that she was too slow, she hadn't meant for her mom to fall, she protested weakly in her head, before squashing that thought firmly. Whom else was there to blame but herself? Shelby had said it was her own fault but surely it wasn't, she hadn't even known that Rachel was going to disobediently mop the floor in her absence. This was entirely Rachel's fault, starting with the disobedience and slowness and ending with what had happened with her mom. She ought to be thankful her mom wasn't hurt worse, and needed to be properly contrite to show her mom how sorry she was. Above all, she couldn't afford to anger her mom with any of her feeble excuses.

She turned her attention back to the essay she was supposed to be write. How was she supposed to structure this, she'd never written a punishment essay before. Lines, yes, when she was younger, but not essays. And an essay about such a strange topic, too.

Maybe her mom was new to this disciplining of wayward children and wanted her suggestions? It made sense, she had never had a child other than Rachel, probably never punished a misbehaving child before. If that was the case, maybe she could purposefully be more lenient on herself in the hopes that her mom, in her inexperience, would give her these lesser punishments? She pondered the thought for a while then quickly discarded that idea – what if her mom was just testing her to see if she understood what she had done wrong and check if she was sincerely sorry? She didn't want to earn herself even more punishments, this one was already going to be bad enough.

Besides, she didn't really want to be let off easily. She _was_ sincerely sorry that her mom had gotten hurt because of her and she did know she deserved to be punished for her disobedience. Her disobedience over such a simple matter at that. It wasn't like her mom had been starving or exhausting her; she hadn't assigned her any back-breaking tasks to do, nor had she given her an overly long list of chore list or an impossible deadline to meet. No, she had fed and pampered her all week and all she had asked of her in return was to stay in her room and out of her way, and she couldn't even accomplish something as simple as that. She did deserve to be punished, as severely as her mom saw fit to dole out.

Grabbing a piece of paper, she scribbled quickly, planning out what she was going to write in her essay.

...

The second hand on the clock was ticking agonizingly slowly. Every passing minute felt like an eternity. Dark thoughts of her father filled her mind. She wondered what would he be like tonight.

She recalled Monday's fiasco. The harsh kisses, the belt, the quoting of scriptures, the almost-punch... the way he'd rushed from her room half-dressed, eyes crazed, face white as a sheet as though he'd just seen a ghost. Not even bothering to punish her for resisting him, for disobeying him.

What had happened to him that night? More importantly, would he still remember it tonight? Was he going to go crazy again, or would he be his usual cold self, declaring that every mistake had to be punished appropriately so that Quinn would learn the error of her ways? Especially for her disobedience and defiance.

The classic, "Spare the rod and spoil the child". The biblical, "Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline will drive it far away", "Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you punish them with the rod, they will not die. Punish them with the rod and save them from death." All those excuses he would use to justify his 'discipline'. Yeah right, he didn't love her, only loved to rape her and beat her up. She knew them well, not only did he say them often enough, he would frequently make her repeat them with every stroke of the belt, searing them in her memory forever.

"A willful spirit needs to beaten out of young girls so that they would develop a humble attitude and learnt to submit to their fathers as a child and to their husbands after marriage," he used to say, especially when she developed a rebellious attitude in her teenage years. When she stopped being his "obedient little angel". Was that what her mother believed in as well, that she ought to submit to whatever her husband decreed for the family? Her words tonight were different, though, she'd never been the one to say them, it had always been _him_ who hinted at the nightly visits when she was sent to her room. She never even gave a clue that she knew what went on in the house at night, although she had to know... How could she not? Especially Monday night, Quinn had screamed so loud her voice had still felt slightly hoarse the next day.

Quinn understood the silence and the avoidance of the topic, even appreciated it sometimes, when not discussing it meant she could pretend everything was normal and okay. But to say those words herself, to send her daughter up to the room with the information that her father would be along to rape her soon... Did she not mind? Did she not care? God, did she approve of it, was she like, some sick pervert or something?

The only thing that had felt strange was the tone of her mother's voice. She wasn't just being authoritative or even pervertic like her father usually was. It was like she was... Angry? No, not angry, it was like she was bitter and resentful.

Of what? Of her sicko husband? Of her inability to rescue her daughter from him? Quinn scoffed, no way in hell. The only person her mother had ever cared about was herself, she probably felt victimized or some shit. When she - Quinn - was the true victim here.

What was going to happen tonight, she wondered for the millionth time but without understanding what had happened on Monday night, there was no way she was going to figure it out. She only hoped it wouldn't hurt too badly.

She recalled how terribly the welts had hurt that night. The sharp stinging, chafing, agonising pain with every step she took afterwards. The swelling had been almost gone the next morning though, leaving behind just some redness and tenderness. It scarcely hurt when she walked, the only time it was really painful was when she used the facilities. Even then, it wasn't that bad. But she knew she had gotten off easily that night. Russell had probably realized he had a flight to catch and couldn't be bothered to return to finish the job. Tonight, though, that would be no conference, no flight to save her. With the weekend ahead of them, he had plenty of time to do whatever he wanted to her.

As long as she was still able to attend service on Sunday, she corrected bitterly.

She recalled her pride on Tuesday morning, her determination to resist him again in spite of the low chance of repeated success. After all, she had no control over what he was going to do to her, no clue even, to what his mood was going to be like. But her own actions were something she could dictate.

Subconsciously, her right forearm wrapped around her body, her palm resting lightly on her lower abdomen. She didn't just have herself to think about now, there was a little life growing inside her, one utterly and completely dependent on her for everything - food, water, oxygen... And protection. One little life trusting her to keep away from harm so it could grow into a little person. The voice of the devil in her head suggested that her pregnancy troubles would be solved should her father beat the little fetus out of her, cause her to have a miscarriage but that thought merely sickened her. She tried to recall her Biology lessons, did it have a heart yet? Little fingers and toes?

To think of that little life dying inside her just like that, when she could have protected it had she just swallowed her pride and obeyed her father… it felt just as bad she imagined an abortion would.

What was she going to do?

**A/N. I'm sorry! I know I just revealed last chapter that Russell is coming home tonight, and many of you are dying to find out what happens next. Some even called the manner in which I ended the last chapter a 'cliffhanger'. Unfortunately, there's very little advancement on Quinn's front in this chapter. I'm sorry! If you'll let me explain, it's because I'm writing this story in chronological order and there's a lot more I want to say about Shelby / Rachel first. Quinn's story after Russell returns, which I strategically placed at 9pm, will be in 1-2 chapters. Which means, yes, the next chapter probably won't have much of Quinn either. Just as with the first few chapters, these few days (in the fic) will span quite a few chapters. I already know what will happen in the next few chapters but how I distribute the content will depend largely on which parts I get inspiration to write first, so who knows, _maybe_ Quinn will feature in the next chapter after all.  
**

**-Hides from rocks and rotten fruit being thrown at me-**

**If you noticed, for Chapters 16-19, I couldn't think of a suitable title, then this chapter and the last have the same title. This is partly due to my lack of creativity and also because I doubt my readers really care what the chapter title is as long as you keep getting your weekly updates? But really, yhis chapter was even more about 'Waiting' than the last chapter - Rachel waiting for her mom to punish her, Quinn waiting for her father to come home. **

**In the same way, maybe your long and painful wait can lend you a better appreciation of Quinn's own very painful wait in her room for her father's return? Just think about how torturous that wait is for her. Even if she only needs to wait a few hours, as opposed to your few weeks, these next few hours must feel like **_**years**_** to the poor girl. Think about that as you wait a week until the next chapter appears? **

**Please don't kill me!**


	24. Waiting III

ajunebuga – I prefer Rachel's story too, so that should be good news for you. However, I hope Quinn's story will eventually grow on you, as I don't intend for her story to simple be "a foil for Rachel's". As for Rachel's essay, I'm not sure when you'll get to see what Rachel wrote, since I'm trying to rescue Quinn as soon as possible, but you will, at the very least, see snippets of it in future chapters. Quinn is indeed a good person, despite her crazy parents and her mean actions. After her rescue, it'll be fun to write how she grows up and deviates from her upbringing and seeks her own path.

NZgleek91 – Thank you (:

CarmellaD'Winter - In my opinion, Quinn has it worst. Followed by Shelby. At least what's going to happen next will be much better than anything in Rachel's imagination, whereas who knows what's going to happen to Quinn? As for Shelby, she's definitely got a long road ahead of her, learning how to deal with all this, but I'll give you a clue – she won't be struggling on her own.

Shana – Haha, it's not that cliffhangers are bad, it's that I didn't even intend it as a cliffhanger, lol. As for the comment on this being a book, you could just wait the maybe 6 months it takes for this story to be completed, then read it like a book? –Smiles evilly- Okay, enough of my ego. Quinn's rescue is coming really soon, I promise. And who gets to look after her will be revealed soon too. Not that I think anyone really cares at this point, haha, they just want her out of there right? Although I'm curious, why did you bring up Sue? The way you said it, it didn't sound like you wanted Quinn to end up with Sue. The Fabrays will have a trial as well, again I love to contrast the two girls, and I suspect I'll be doing so with their respective trials too.

Comegetit – I've already PM-ed you in reply, although I'm still eagerly waiting to hear your answers to my questions, because your review really did leave me rather confused about certain things. Still, thanks for the input. I hope my advice on how to skip the A/Ns (explanations about the different formatting) was helpful. I know I can't expect all my readers to like the way I write but I still hope to hear from you soon.

Quinniebaby – Yes, I do realize it's one-sided. Unfortunately, I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew here. Rachel only remained with her fathers for a short while, which meant I only needed to write a few scenes of her with them. Quinn, on the other hand, after 21 chapters, is still living at home, and to be honest, at many points in these 21 chapters, I've neglected her story simply because I've run out of juice to write about her. However, rest assured that after she gets rescued in the next few chapters, her story will start developing once again. I understand that your anxiety is largely because Quinn is still in a very dangerous situation, and I reiterate that I will try to get her out of there as quickly as possible without interrupting the flow of the story.

Guest – Thank you for realizing that Quinn is a second main character, and thus inevitably has lesser screen time than Rachel. On my end, I do acknowledge, that Quinn has been quite neglected so far. As I just explained to 'Quinniebaby', I hadn't expected that her rescue would take so long, and because I don't know as much about incest as I do about physical and psychological abuse, the little content I had for Quinn's homelife has had to be spread very thinly over the past 21 chapters. It is as important as Rachel's, but unfortunately, I don't write it as well. Nonetheless, thanks for the encouragement, I'll keep working on it.

Anon – Haha! I definitely don't hate for you saying that, although your anecdote of skimming through Rachel's part pains me for all the effort I put into writing it. Nevertheless, I do understand your point. Quinn is trapped in a terrible place, and I confess I'm using that fear to help motivate me to write. The longer she's stuck there, the more inspiration I get. Especially with describing her emotions, since I'm trying to avoid clinically describing R-21 graphic scenes. After all these chapters, I'm still struggling to write Quinn, and I hope her waiting bits in this chapter were satisfactory. I'm definitely not offended! In fact, thank you for being so invested in this fic (:

Rini – Oh dear, now I feel like a "sick pervert" for being able to come up with these storylines. Haha. No worries, I know you didn't mean it that way. I must admit, now that I've worked most of my angst out of my system, the chapters (especially Quinn's) are getting more difficult to write. And it's true, anticipating danger, pain, or any other unpleasant circumstance can be way more terrifying that the actual event itself. That's what I'm hoping to bring out in this series of chapters on "Waiting", for which, I guess, is unfortunately earning me a number of enemies, sigh. Quinn would definitely agree with you, poor girl indeed. As for Rachel, she's suffering through the same terrifying experience of anticipation of punishment. We know nothing bad will really happen to her but she doesn't know that, and for her the fear is very real as well. Just because she's healing physically doesn't mean she's out of the woods, psychological scars can be just as bad as the physical ones she carries.

Jenn – I'm surprised Shelby held out so long, her world has turned completely topsy turvy in a matter of days. Dragged across states without warning, to care for an abused daughter she'd never met, who somehow still continues to defend her abusive fathers and expect punishment from Shelby at every tiny error… If I were her, rather than sending Rachel to her room, I might have been locked myself in my room and hidden away from the world. Yes, I'll make a terrible mother. Still, no one can really blame Rachel. Quinn's wait was meant to feel torturous for you, the impatience and dread growing inside of you a reflection or her terrifying anticipation of what will happen next. Better times are coming soon for her, but as the saying goes, it's going to get worse before it gets better.

Guest – Yes! The dilemna you face means I've somewhat succeeded in presenting both sides of the argument. For most people, logic dictates that Quinn should get rid of her baby but things look very different when you're standing in Quinn's shoes, doesn't it? Whatever happens next, once she gets out of this house and away from these two poor excuses for parents, she'll definitely get the support she needs to deal with future events.

shiniso – Seriously? With everyone bugging me to hurry up and get to Quinn's part (Tick Tock, goes the clock, closer and closer to 9pm!), you want me to drag this portion out by writing an essay? And knowing Rachel, her essay will be detailed, bordering on long-winded, and will reveal more about herself and her psychological trauma than about the subject matter. The short of it is, I still don't know if I'm going to write the whole essay. Maybe one day, when I'm having writer's block for this story, I'll write the essay and post it as a one-off... who knows? Which would you prefer?  
As for Quinn's bits, I'm starting to have a pretty good idea of what's going to happen, now all that's left is to get some alone time and get myself in the mood to write of dark, depressing themes. It's particularly hard because, as mentioned, I'm going to change my style of writing and try and write any extreme scenes 'implied' and not 'graphic' as I've become used to.

GreenLemons - Wow! I've got to thank this friend of yours (: Reading through all that in two days must have been crazy, you "powered through" indeed, especially considering the crazy themes in this fic. I'm glad you like it. Quinn will be put with a new family and the two girls will eventually recover and bond, that's something you can definitely look forward to!

Gleek101 – I've already decided where Quinn is going, of course, but those are very good reasons. Shelby is definitely a much better mother than Judy Fabray is. As for you mentioning that Quinn needs to see a good psychiatrist, it's interesting because I just started my Psychiatry posting. I hadn't intended to but might end up writing some scenes of their (Rachel's and Quinn's) therapy sessions.

Guest – Yup, poor girls indeed. Sorry, more of another parents' insanity is revealed in this chapter, hope you manage to keep a tight rein on your murderous desires, heh.

Chapter 22. Waiting III

Rachel stood up quickly from her desk when she saw Shelby at the door.

"Mom," she greeted. "Are you okay?"

Shelby gave her a quizzical look, and Rachel rubbed her own bum subconsciously, the absence of any pain once again not failing to surprise her. She had no doubt that would soon change, and her own rear end was going to be made to hurt a hundred times more than her mom's soon. Not that she didn't deserve it, of course. But how much her impending punishment was going to hurt was still anybody's guess, and would probably depend largely on how seriously her mom considered her offences and how angry she was. Especially when this was going to be the first time was punishing her, given the clemency that her mom had previously granted her at the hospital. Surely she wasn't going to get away so easily this time.

Shelby caught sight of Rachel's action and quickly reassured her. "It was just a minor bump on my rear, I'm fine really. Why would you think I'm going to punish you for something as small as that?"

Rachel bit her lip and shrugged. That was such an odd question but she tried to answer it anyway. "Revenge?" she suggested.

Shelby fought the urge to roll her eyes because Rachel looked so nervous, so sincere in her response. "I may be new at this whole parenting business, but I'm pretty sure parents do not take revenge on their children for minor incidents like this. I'm pretty sure parents do not take revenge on their children _at all_. You didn't hurt me intentionally, it was my own fault I fell, and I'm honestly hardly hurt, so don't worry about it."

"It _was_ my fault," Rachel insisted. "I left the floor wet and wasn't quick enough with the drying. I should have paid better attention to the time and mopped faster. You said you were be home at 5 and I should have made sure to finish all the mopping before you came home. I made the floor wet and didn't dry it in time, that's why you slipped and fell on the floor. It is my fault." Rachel let her voice trail off as her gaze shifted back down to the floor, overwhelmed by her own guilt.

Shelby sighed, how was she to respond to that?

"Well, _I_ don't think it's your fault, okay?"

The awkward silence returned and Shelby took the opportunity to peek over Rachel's shoulder to take a look at what she had written.

"I'm sorry," Rachel apologized, handing over the piece of paper. "I've only just finished planning it out, I haven't started writing the actual essay yet..."

"I only sent you up ten minutes ago, I didn't expect you to have completed an essay but this 'plan' is... very detailed," Shelby commented as she studied the mindmap Rachel had drawn. It filled the entire page.

"I know it's really untidy, I'm sorry. This is just a plan, I didn't intend to show this to you so I thought it was okay to write illegibly, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm a teacher, the ability to decipher the illegible handwriting of our students is one of the most essential skills all teachers develop eventually." She noticed Rachel's continued nervousness despite her attempt at a joke and reassured her again. "I can make out what you've written, don't worry about it."

"What I did wrong", Shelby read out loud. "Disobey my mom by mopping the floor when I was instructed to stay in my room." It was the first item of a list of 7-8.

She paused. "Why _did_ you do that?" she asked, curious to know the answer. Of all the trouble that leaving a child alone at home could lead to, she would have thought that said child mopping the floor was pretty far down on the list of possibilities.

"I wanted to help you clean the floor. So maybe we could cook together again tonight."

"What does mopping have to do with cooking?"

"I... I swept the floor yesterday too," Rachel confessed. Shelby looked up sharply at her and Rachel braced herself for a hit that still didn't come. "I'm sorry, I know you told me to stay in my room yesterday as well. I guess you'll have to punish me for that disobedience too..." her voice trailing off to a whisper.

"I still don't see the link between the two."

"Yesterday, because you didn't have to sweep the floor, you had time to teach me how to cook. I had hoped tonight if I helped you mop the floor as well, you would have more time, and we could cook together again."

Shelby sighed. She had never thought her aversion to housework could have caused so much trouble.

"I'm sorry," Shelby apologised as sincerely as she could. "I'm the mom, I should have done the chores and kept the floor clean. It's my fault that the floor got dirty enough that you felt the need to sweep and mop the floor for me."

"But I can do it. I don't mind."

"Do what? The chores?"

Rachel nodded. "You don't have to do them, I can help you with them. Sweeping, mopping, washing the toilets… any housework you want me to do, I can do them all. It's just cooking that I don't know how to do, but like you said last night, I'm a fast learner and if you're willing to teach me, I'll be cooking for you in no time as well. And as for everything else, whatever that needs getting done, just say the word and I'll do it, anything you ask me to."

Shelby frowned. "I'm the mom. Chores are my job, not yours. You're my daughter, not my servant, it wouldn't be right."

"Please? I _want_ to help you."

"Why?" Shelby asked, honestly curious.

"You don't like to do housework," Rachel stated bluntly, surprising Shelby by her astute observation. "I can do them for you, I'm used to it. I want to be useful, and chores are something I'm experienced with. I'll do a good job, I promise. You can inspect my work and punish me if it's not up to your standard. I'm a fast learner, I'll get it done right, the way you specfy, I promise."

Shelby pursed her lips in frustration. _And there they were back at this hateful topic._ Still, she'd promised herself wasn't going to run away again, although that didn't mean she couldn't set it aside for the time being. "Okay," she relented. "You can do the chores if you want to. But on one condition, I'll pay you for it."

Rachel frowned. "You don't have to pay me. You already pay for the house and the bills and everything else, it's only right that I do my part to help out. I can't really find a job yet, but helping out with chores is the least I can do to earn my keep."

"Nope. Sure, simple things like setting the table, washing the dishes and taking out the trash is considered helping out. And of course you'd still be expected to keep your own room clean. But sweeping and mopping takes a much longer time, and if you help me with them, I'll pay you for that help." She paused, contemplating the strange direction this conversation was taking. She recalled her teenage years, when she spotted a bag or outfit she really wanted, how she would reluctantly agree to do chores and bargain with her mom for a pay rise for those jobs.

"Aren't there things you want to buy for yourself?"

Rachel shrugged. She had everything she needed. Already, she was receiving allowance that she didn't spend a single cent of. She didn't need to, not when her mom paid for all the things she needed for school and packed lunch for her everyday. Still, she figured just like the painkillers, it wouldn't hurt to put some money aside for a rainy day.

"Okay." She nodded to her mom, and was rewarded with a smile. It was all just too confusing. _She _was all too confusing.

Shelby looked back down at the piece of paper in her hands. She hadn't forgotten Rachel's comment on punishment for poorly done chores, she just didn't know how to respond to it.

"Taking too long to finish mopping. Leaving the floor wet. Causing my mom to slip and fall and hurt herself. Breaking a glass figurine. Sweeping the floor yesterday (Disobedience x2). Deception... Deception?"

"I lied to you yesterday, when I told you I was getting a glass of water. Actually, you caught me when I was keeping the broom and dustpan in the kitchen and I didn't want you to find out about me disobeying about the sweeping. So I quickly poured two glasses of water when I heard you drive in, and lied to you about what I was really doing in the kitchen. I'm sorry."

"So you suspected that I would disapprove then?"

Rachel nodded and hung her head. "I'm sorry," she repeated forlornly.

"So why did you do it? Do you honestly prefer doing household chores to resting and doing whatever you wanted in your room?"

Rachel shook her head. "I... I want to make myself useful. You've been busy, with unpacking and all, whereas I've been so lazy, all I do is stay in my room and sleep or study. I wanted to help you more but all I did was screw things up further. I'm sorry."

"You didn't screw anything up, actually, but that's not the point. Why did you see the need to make yourself useful? You don't need to be 'useful', I understand perfectly if you need more rest this week. Firstly, your injuries must still hurt like the devil, even walking has to hurt and sitting in class all day has to be even worse. I didn't want you to have to do anything else to cause yourself more pain or re-injure yourself. Secondly, you need to rest as much as possible in order to ensure proper healing of your wounds. I'm sure you would want the dressings removed tomorrow so you can finally shower on your own, no?"

Rachel nodded, and Shelby continued.

"And thirdly, the painkillers you're on make you drowsy and increased sleeping time is perfectly understandable."

Rachel bit her lip. It was on the tip of her tongue to confess to stashing away the bottle of painkillers and not having taken any of the pills this week but she held herself back. She had readily confessed to all her errors so far, but this was different. The many excuses she had made to justify her actions now sounded flimsy even to herself, and she knew if she confessed it, she was really going to 'get it' from her mom. Surely she would recognise that contrary to all her lying excuses, she had kept the pills away for one purpose - to use when she was punished. Pain from punishments was inflicted for a purpose, to teach her obedience and help her to be a better daughter. If her mom knew she had intended to secretly take painkillers to dull the well-deserved pain her mom inflicted on her as punishment... She didn't know what her mom would do to her, she had never ever pulled such a defiant stunt with her fathers before.

Shelby sighed. Whatever was going through her daughter's head, she wasn't sharing.

"I wasn't sleepy," Rachel finally said. "I thought you wanted me to keep out of your way, so I stayed in the room like you asked but after a while, I got bored. And felt guilty for lazing around in my room when you were so busy. I wanted to help out, I didn't want you to think I was lazy and useless."

"I was the one who told you to stay in your room, remember? And I don't think you're lazy, you don't have to worry about that. I was just concerned for your health, which is far more important to me than whether you help out around the house. I didn't know you weren't drowsy from the meds and instead felt neglected."

Neglected? She hadn't said that. But in a way, she supposed she had been feeling a little ignored these few days. It was a strange feeling to recognise, though. Usually, being ignored was a good thing, because that meant that she was doing everything right - chores, studies, practices. Her fathers would leave her alone to continue with her routine and she would have been happy with that. It was when she screwed up that she 'earned' herself their full attention in the form of strict punishments. She'd never thought that being ignored could feel so bad but she supposed yes, to some extent, she had done what she did because she wanted her mom to notice her, to see that she could be much more useful if she was allowed out of her room and assigned chores to do.

Look how well that turned out.

She turned to face her mom. "How do you intend to punish me?"

Here we go again, Shelby thought with no small amount of frustration. "Why do you think I'm going to punish you?"

"You just read out a list of all my misbehaviours. I assume this means you're going to decide on my punishment for them now? Are you going to assign the punishments one by one or just give me a really severe punishment for everything together?"

The list was so long that Rachel had hoped it would be the latter, since the former would probably take a few days to complete. At the incredulous look on her mom's face, however, she immediately retracted her statement.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I'm sorry I asked. I was just curious..." She bit down on her lip to prevent her runaway mouth from getting her into further trouble.

Shelby sighed again. " Listen carefully to me, Rachel. I'm not going to punish you, not for any of that. And I'm definitely not going to hit you."

Rachel's frown deepened. "No one else is here, and I won't tell anyone. It wasn't me who told about my fathers, I wouldn't do that. I'll keep silent too, I won't scream and shout or anything, so the neighbors wouldn't hear. I know I deserve to be punished and I'll try my best to accept it properly. I... I would be grateful for the discipline."

Shelby clenched her fists in anger but managed to keep a hold of her temper. She tried to reason with Rachel, which thus far had been more effective than allowing her anger to get the better of her.

"Remember when we had a similar conversation in the hospital? I pointed out to you that parents beating their children, even as punishment, is abuse. Your fathers being reported to CPS was not an act of homophobia, the extent to which they punished you amounted to abuse and was against the law."

Rachel nodded, not in agreement but because she recalled this conversation. So what if it was against the law? She'd already given her mom the assurance that she wouldn't tell anyone.

"What do you think Nurse Martha would say tomorrow, if I were to beat you now?"

"Oh!" It suddenly dawned on Rachel that the same nurses who had reported her fathers for child abuse might do the same again if she should arrive in the hospital for her dressings change with additional welts and cuts. Usually, her back and bottom was so cut up that additional punishment might not have made much of a difference, but now that she was healing well and hadn't been punished at all in the past week she had been living with her mom, Nurse Martha was sure to notice any new marks. And then her mom would get in trouble with CPS, just like her dads had.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly. "I forgot all about my appointment tomorrow and wasn't thinking clearly. I didn't mean to get you in trouble. I could postpone the appointment, go next week instead?"

Shelby sighed, almost regretting her words. That was definitely not the conclusion she had hoped Rachel would arrive at.

"Or you could punish my hands like I thought you were going to just now. It'll be really painful to hold my pen to write my essay later when my hands are all welted and swollen, Dad used to whack my hand before he made me do lines for this same reason. Another advantage would be that you could cut and mark them all you want. No one will look at my palms if I don't show them. No one will know."

"No!" Shelby half shouted. Why was her daughter recommending vicious punishments for her to inflict on her tender little palms?

"No," she repeated in a more measured tone. "What I meant was, the manner with which your fathers punished you amounted to abuse, that's what landed you in the hospital in the first place. I'm not going to do the same. You've done nothing deserving of much punishment, if any at all, and I've already assigned you an essay, that's all the punishment you're going to get from me." She glanced back down at the paper in her hand, filled with many more words detailing possible punishments, words she didn't want to read out loud but she would bet a million bucks they were going through Rachel's head now. It sounded terrible enough reading them in her head, she could barely stomach the thought that it was Rachel who had written this, that in all likelihood, these were punishments that her fathers had probably inflicted on her in the past.

Rachel shook her head. "That's not a punishment," she insisted. "Essays aren't a proper punishment. You should strap me with your belt. If you're worried about Nurse Martha, you could strap my hands with the belt. No one will notice. Strap my palms until they are red, welted and swollen, then make me write the essay immediately after when they're still painful. It's a very effective punishment, the welts would make even gripping the pen impossible without causing my palm to throb painfully. And if I write too slowly or my handwriting is not up to par, you could then punish me again. And again and again until I learn my lesson. Punish me hard and make me feel the pain for days and weeks so I won't forget my lesson. It's rare to leave scars on palms, but if you hit me hard enough that you do, then the scars will just help me remember my lessons forever."

She paused, looking up at her mom, checking for a response. "That's a punishment. This isn't."

Hearing the graphic description roll off her daughter's tongue so matter-of- tipped Shelby over the edge. Tears rolled down her cheeks, which she ignored in favour of reaching out to her daughter. She guided her to sit down at a desk chair and sat down in another herself.

"The essay was your punishment, I'm not punishing you any further. And since you haven't done anything wrong, it wasn't even really to punish you, I just wanted to understand why you disobeyed me and what punishment you expected from me, and hence what issues I may have to address, that's the only reason I assigned you the essay. I never intended to cause you any pain."

"Yes, mom," Rachel agreed. She subconsciously rubbed her palms against the side of her legs, an action that did not go unnoticed by Shelby.

She has serious selective hearing, Shelby thought, exasperated, before Rachel's words, describing what a 'real' punishment was, started to fully sink in, and she retracted her previous sentiments. Rachel's behaviour wasn't her fault, it'd been beaten into her, and Shelby was the one who had abandoned her to that horrible childhood.

"I repeat, I am not punishing you any further. I wanted to understand your _thoughts_, that's all. I'm not going to beat you, not am I going to carry out any of the punishments you suggested here. Don't get me wrong, I am disappointed that you felt neglected but did not feel secure enough to come talk to me about you. Remember, you can talk to me about anything, I can't know what you're thinking if you don't talk to me about it. That said, I wrongly assumed you would be drowsy from your pain medications and did not ask you if you wanted to rest in your room, merely ordered you there everyday, so I am at fault as well. I've got a lot to learn, we both do, and we need to start talking more to avoid such misunderstandings in future."

Shelby paused to check if Rachel was following her, and Rachel nodded quickly, although fear was still evident on her young face.

"What's the first thing I said?"

"That you're not punishing me any further..." Rachel replied hesitantly. She was still stuck trying to wrap her head around that statement. Her mom wasn't punishing her further? She was being awfully lenient, she really didn't know how to punish children properly but from the way her heart was aching and scolding her for having disappointed her mom, maybe she wasn't so clueless after all. Still, even if heartache was a punishment, her mom hadn't vented her anger on her yet. And Shelby was clearly still angry. She was trying her best to hide it, but Rachel could see it in the way her jaw was set, and the stiff way she stood, fists clenched by the side. Her mom was definitely still furious, maybe even more so than when they were downstairs.

"Yes, that's good. Now first, are you in any pain, or even any discomfort?"

As expected, Rachel shook her head quickly in reply. Sure, her back ached a little, but that was nothing really, she was just unused to the strain of mopping the floor after lazing around for so long. In fact, the greatest discomfort came from being too sweaty but unable to take a nice cold shower.

Shelby pursed her lips, not for a moment believing her daughter. It wasn't that she thought Rachel was a liar, but that child had the most warped perception of pain she had ever seen.

"Another reason why I didn't want you to move around the house these past few days was because no one with injuries as severe as yours should even be out of bed. I only allowed you to go to school because you were concerned about missing too many classes and promised me you would look after yourself. But tasks like mopping the floor are an absolutely unnecessary strain on your healing body and I hope you didn't hurt yourself."

"I didn't! I was really careful," Rachel instinctively rushed to assure her, before realizing that that was quite untrue. She had been rushing too much, trying to meet her 5pm deadline to be all that concerned about herself or her 'injuries'.

"I'm sorry, I _was_ rushing a little but nothing really hurts all that badly. I'm fine," she informed Shelby. Instinctively, her right arm curled around her body, as though to protect herself from her mom. Not because she expected a beating but because she knew her mom was not going to take her word for it and was going to want to see for herself.

True enough, Shelby had expected Rachel would deny any pain, and knew that her denials were not an accurate indication of whether she was truly hurt.

"May I have a look at your back to check that you really didn't injure yourself? In future, please also remember that I'll _always_ be more interested in your _well-being_ than in your 'usefulness' in doing chores, okay? In addition to dancing and exercise, you are _not_ to do any of your chores until you are declared fully healed by Dr Lopez."

Rachel swallowed hard. Up till now, her mom had still sounded quite calm but now she was starting to sound displeased, almost angry. She nodded her head in agreement and moved to remove her shirt but was stopped by her mother.

"Just loosen your clothes like when the nurses change your dressings."

A mental image of a clothes-less Rachel stretched across an old motel bed, displayed and waiting to be punished came unbidden to Shelby's mind and she wanted to keep that memory out of both their minds as much as possible.

Rachel obeyed and then stretched out on her bed, while Shelby donned gloves and stared at the exposed areas. 'Nothing really hurts all that badly', my foot, she cursed silently.

She knew she shouldn't be having such a reaction, she had seen this every night when she helped wash Rachel and if she was honest, it was looking better with each passing day. Still, 'better' was a relative term, Rachel still had a long way to go before she was truly fine. There was no way her back didn't hurt even if she had been lying motionless in bed all day, much less going to school, sitting down for classes all day, and oh God, sweeping and mopping floors for her.

Shelby's gaze moved to Rachel's right shoulder. The bag strap's imprint was no longer there, 'just' some deep bruising and a few healing welts but that image was forever seared in her mind. Shelby didn't think she could forget it even if she wanted to. An inch-wide vertical stripe of indented redness, extending from the top of her right shoulder down to her armpit, leaving behind several broken blisters, which were weeping blood-stained fluid…

First carrying her luggage, and now mopping – Rachel needed to stop hurting herself doing things for her. Shelby wasn't sure her heart could take any more of this.

As gently as she could, she adjusted Rachel's clothes around so she could better check the damage. Her entire back was sweaty, which had to be stinging the broken skin and welts but at least nothing looked worse than it had yesterday. She searched carefully and noticed a single blister on her left flank had burst and was oozing some fluid. At least the fluid was clear, which indicated it wasn't infected.

She lightly tapped the intact skin beside the blister, careful not to come into contact with the broken skin. "A blister burst here, doesn't it hurt?"

Rachel tensed. Shit! She'd hurt herself despite her mom's repeated instructions and emphasis throughout the week not to. Was this what she was finally going to be punished for? It seemed kind of ironic to be punished for something like this.

"I'm sorry, did that hurt?" Shelby asked, snatching back her finger immediately, mistaking Rachel's fear for pain. "I'll put a plaster on and let Nurse Martha know tomorrow, okay?"

In a minute, the plaster was pasted on, and Shelby stared, wondering what she ought to do next. She felt terribly guilty, and staring at Rachel's injured back felt like she was, in some sick way, punishing herself for her negligence in looking after her daughter.

However, she couldn't just keep standing here staring at Rachel's back. It did Rachel no good after all, all the guilt in the world wouldn't do an ounce of good for her. Maybe she could wipe her down now instead of waiting till later tonight, and they could spend the night doing things together? Show Rachel that they could spend time together outside of chores like cooking. She did need to spend more with her daughter, get to know her a little better, and it was past seven anyway, too late to cook dinner tonight. They could order in, then watch a movie or play some games together. Maybe talk a little more if Rachel felt like it.

"Take off your clothes, please, honey."

A long minute passed after Shelby applied the plaster, but still there were no instructions forthcoming. Rachel wanted to curl up into herself and hide away but she forced herself to remain painfully still as she had been trained to. Her back exposed like this, and her mom angry at her again... Was her mom deciding whether or not to punish her? Or maybe she was choosing what to punish her with. She remembered thinking it would be a relief when her mom finally punished her, but all she felt now was cold dread. What made it worse was how hard her mom had been trying to be lenient with her. It only made this time, when her mom had finally reached the end of her rope, too fed up with her to tolerate her disobedience anymore, even worse. To know that she had finally put her kind and gentle mother over the edge, forced her to finally resort to punishing her.

She heard the order to remove her clothes and obeyed immediately. She bent her knees halfway, about to kneel, then looked towards her mom for any indication or instruction as to the correct position she was supposed to assume. She didn't want to make the same mistake as she had downstairs.

"What are you doing, get up now please" Shelby exclaimed as she hurriedly reached down to pull her daughter up to a standing position. "Do you _like_ being beaten?"

Rachel shook her head slowly, then froze. She shrugged one shoulder up and stared down at her feet.

"Yes?" Shelby probed. It had actually been a rhetorical question, but Rachel appeared to have an answer in mind. It was a conversation they needed to have, and this was as good an opener as any.

"It doesn't matter if I like it, I deserve it," she whispered.

"That was not my question. I asked if you _liked_ to be beaten."

"It's a punishment, I'm not supposed to like it." Rachel replied earnestly. "I don't like _being_ beaten, it's painful and humiliating. But I like after, when Dad isn't mad at me anymore. And sometimes, if I was punished really severely but behaved myself during my punishment, Daddy will feel sorry for me, and help me to apply some ointment where it's difficult for me to reach and it's… nice. Anyway, it's much preferable to food restriction or more chores because it's quicker and with the other two, I'd often get light headed from the lack of food and make even more mistakes and earn myself more punishments. This way, at least I can get it over and done with."

Shelby felt sick at the horrors spilling out of her daughter's mouth so carelessly, horrors that Rachel was earnestly sharing with her as though she was simply explaining her favourite flavour of ice-cream. But she could not allow herself to get sick now, Rachel needed her more, so she swallowed her emotions and pressed on. "What if the alternative was not being punished at all?"

"But that wouldn't be right. I did wrong and deserve to be punished. Otherwise how will I learn? And I wronged you, so you deserve the right to punish me and make me pay for it."

"Pay for what? Me slipping and falling on the floor? I already told you, I should have been more careful. And if we rewind a little, it really was my fault, I should have mopped the floor myself, instead of procrastinating until you couldn't stand it and decided to help me mop the floor, despite knowing it'd be going against my instructions to stay in your room."

"I still disobeyed you," Rachel insisted. "And just now, you told me to take care of myself but I went and hurt myself again. I'm sorry." Rachel turned her head back to look for the burst blister and found it. It was small, barely noticeable among the various welts and cuts on her back but disobedience was disobedience.

"No, _I_ am sorry. I meant to tell you I was going to wipe you down now instead of later, since you're sweating quite a bit, and it must feel terribly uncomfortable not being able to bathe. However, my mind was occupied thinking about something else and it must have slipped my mind. Please stop thinking I'm going to punish you, okay?"

Rachel nodded. "I'm sorry you have to help me wipe myself when I'm so sweaty and smelly."

"No worries, it's fine. Hopefully this is the last time you have to go through this. But if Nurse Martha doesn't pass you for a change of dressings to the waterproof ones tomorrow, and you still can't shower on your own, it'll be entirely your own fault. No one told you to mop the floor, hmm?"

Rachel nodded, chastened.

Shelby continued more gently, "Actions have natural consequences. Nature is going to take its course, I'm not going to punish you any further. Just please try and take better care of yourself, okay? It pains me to see you hurt, and pains me even more to see you hurt yourself for my sake."

...

Judy Fabray stared at her reflection in the full length mirror and wrinkled her nose in disgust. How had the years gone by so quickly? How had she aged so fast?

Her fair skin showed little sign of sagging, a testament to the gallons of creams, moisturizers, and masks she applied to it everyday, but all the money in the world could not stop wrinkles from appearing. Especially around her eyes, her once vibrant brown eyes that captured the hearts of many young suitors, had by now dulled, and were underlined beneath by dark, tired circles that she never quite managed to hide.

Her trim and athletic figure that used to defy gravity, flying off the top of the pyramid, flipping, twirling and twisting through the air, had gone the way of dinosaurs. Despite her weekly trips to the gym to try and stave off the reletless tide of aging, she never could regain that lithe body. Her abdominal muscles that once framed an attractive six-pack that she loved to show off in a bikini, was now hidden by rolls of fat, inconspicuous enough that she could hide it behind a loose blouse, but that didn't stop her from being able to feel them everyday.

"Love handles" was the euphemism people oftedescribed refer to those hideous llayers of tummy fat that accumulated over time, especially after pregnancy, and never seemed to go away no matter how many sit-ups and crunches you did. If they lived up to that euphemism, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad, but they were not so for her. No one had made love to her in over a year. And could she really blame her husband? Her aging body was way past its prime and far from attractive. Men with his wealth and status never needed to look far to find other younger and more beautiful women to sleep girls, if they so preferred.

She knew that besides her two pregnancies, part of the reason for the deterioration of her figure was the large amounts of alcohol she consumed daily. But she could not help it. She had even tried going cold turkey a few times, but never made it past 3 days. It was one of the last few pleasures she had in life, one of the few things that managed to dull her senses and helped her to forget her sorrows if just for a while. And when she woke up the next morning hung over, scorned again by her husband for her weak-minded addiction, it was only rich strong brandy that could dull the headache and make life tolerable again.

She had married young, forgoing her prestigious cheerleading scholarship and dropping out of school when Russell, her college sweetheart, got her pregnant and encouraged her to leave school, promising to look after her all his life. He was wealthy and charming, and the prospect of life as a "tai tai" was rather attractive. Not having to bear the shame of returning to school pregnant and the humiliation of having to drop out of the cheerleading squad was also a major contributing factor. And so she had listened to him, dropping out of school at 21, just half a year shy of graduation.

But as with most men, all his promises had proven empty, and barely a month after her marriage, when she was 7 months pregnant and refused to lie with him because she felt fat and encumbered by the additional weight, he had gotten angry, slapped her, then run off to sleep with her best friend. That was the first, but by no means the last time he had cheated on her.

How unfair was it that men, rich and powerful men like her husband, could sleep around as they pleased and never have to suffer any consequences, and their lonely, neglected wives just had to grit their teeth and bear it? When men did it, it was called exercising their freedom, and their wives were blamed for their inability to satisfy their husbands' needs. When women did it, they were called sluts.

She thought of the social circles that she roamed in. Charity events, church functions, fund-raisers… those women were never the Mother Teresas they tried to make everyone believe they were. They were gossip queens and vultures, always waiting by the sidelines, ready to swoop down and throw her off her throne and take her place, at the slightest hint of incriminating gossip about her.

It was a miracle they hadn't found anything on her yet. Despite all the cheap whores her husband had slept around with, so far none of her so-called 'friends' had managed to lay their hands on a shred of evidence of her husband's infidelity. Maybe that was one good thing that had come out of the past year, ever since Russell had redirected his target. Perhaps the only good thing.

But so what if she remained the queen of the ladies, so what if she looked ten years younger than her age, so what if she was still the envy of all the ladies in her social circles? She was aging, there was no turning back the clock. She would never regain the beauty of her youth, and her husband would never love her again.

She was no longer the fairest of them all, there was one other in this house far more beautiful than herself. The blond haired, green eyed girl who was practically the mirror image of herself twenty years ago. And oh how ironic was it that she was the one who had borne her, who had given her to him. How ironic was it that _she_, whose birth had catalysed her aging process, the loss of her once-perfect figure, _she_ was the one who had dethroned her?

…

Quinn stared down at her hands, refusing to look at the clock any longer. Maybe time would pass faster when she wasn't anxiously checking the time. Still, it was difficult, given that the quiet ticking of the clock was the only sound in the large house. Two long minutes later, her resolve weakened and she glanced up at the clock.

Still 7.42pm. 78 more torturous minutes to go...

How had this become her life?

She knew she was the envy of every student at school. Every boy wanted to be with her, every girl wanted to be like her. Yet which of them knew she really is? And if they came to know her, the real her, which of them would even want to be associated with her, much less want to be her?

Don't talk about others, even she didn't want to be herself. Who would? Contrary to the glamour and prestige of her high position at school, here in this moment, she was just a pregnant 16-year-old sent to her room by her mother to wait for her father to come up and either beat her, rape her, or likely both. The same father who had impregnated her.

And in spite of all her supposed popularity, she didn't even have a single friend to tell this to. No one would understand. She wasn't sure she understood herself. After all, Monday wasn't the first time he'd hit her. And he had raped her so many times before, she didn't even know which episode it was that had caused her to get knocked up.

In all this time, why had she never reported him? Why didn't she run away? Why hadn't she ever told anyone? Her best friends' budding relationship aside, surely they would understand and sympathize with her if she were to tell them about her home life.

Or would they? Aside from her shockingly successful defiance on Monday night, most nights, she just spread her legs and closed her eyes until it was all over, hardly ever putting up any resistance. And this had happened dozens of times, for more than a year. Would they believe her, or would they wonder if this was, God forbid, consensual?

She thought about the fierce protectiveness of Santana, how she steadfastly defended the innocent Brittany from bullies of any kind. Would the fiery Latina understand why Quinn had kept this from her for so long, even lying to her about something as huge as pregnancy? Even if she believed her, would she understand why she had kept this a secret for so long, why she had keptobeying him, or would she think she was weak?

The Sophomore Queen of McKinley High, who ruled over hundreds of students and could launch a hundred slushies with just one text - it was all a pretense, in reality, she couldn't even stand up to her father against something so horrifying as rape.

All the money that her family had, all the power she held in school, her Cheerios captain ship, her place in the honor roll - she would trade it all in a heartbeat, for a home and a family like Santana's. A mom who cooked warm dinners and baked delicious cookies. A smiling dad who praised her achievements and hugged her good night, but nothing more than a hug. A home she looked forward to going home to, not dreaded to return to everyday.

Subconsciously, her right hand came up to rest on her lower abdomen, as she'd had a tendency to do in the past few days. Her child would have a different life, a better life, she promised herself. She would look after it, Finn would be a good father, and together, they would never allow anything to hurt it. To hurt him... or her. She really should stop calling it an 'it', she told herself, wondering if it was a him or her. She decided she didn't care either way, as long as it grew up healthy and happy. She would love him/her no matter what.

She glanced at her clock - 8.01pm.

She would definitely never send her child to her room to await the descending wrath of a perverse father.

*"Tai tai" is a Chinese colloquial term for a wealthy married woman who does not work (definition taken from Wikipedia). It's widely used in majority-Chinese Singapore but I wasn't sure how well known the Chinese term is in the western population from whitch a majority of my readers come from.

**A/N. This is an extra long chapter to thank you for your patience! More information has been revealed about Quinn and her mother, hope you liked it. You wouldn't believe how long it took to writt Quinn and Judy's part, at least 5 times longer than Rachel's, which explains the consistently shorter length of Quinn's portion, despite the equal time I actually spend on both girls' stories. Nevertheless, it's not the length that counts, I hope you're happy with Quinn's advancing storyline.**

**Next chapter will feature Russell's long anticipated return. However, I'm still struggling immensely to write that part, so this long chapter is, in actual fact, also to placate you, because it might take me 2-3 weeks to write the next chapter to my own satisfaction and upload it.**

**Cheers!**


	25. To Obey

NZgleek91 – I suspect you'll be feeling sorry for Shelby for a long while more, haha. After Quinn and Rachel, she's the third victim of this fic, but thanks to the tragic backgrounds of the two girls, Shelby's misfortune often goes unrecognized. I wanted to show how stressful it is to be a caregiver, how their needs need to be looked after too. Because difficult as Rachel's recovery might be, if Shelby were to break down and give up, or get depression or something, it would become so much worse for Rachel. Same goes for nearly every sick patient we see in the hospitals. I guess my real life is so wrapped around medicine that I can't help but bring what I see in the hospitals into my writing, haha.

Guest – Thank you! Glad you don't find my pace too slow/varied (normal at times but agonizingly slow at others haha). Hope you like this chapter too (:

monkeyme – Yes, she's 16! Her birthday is over. Thanks for the correction, I've changed it already (:

Shana – Sue is funny indeed, but I'm not a very humorous writer, so I find it difficult to write her outrageous personality into my story. Still, she is nice for when this story gets too serious and needs to lighten up, and you'll see more of her in due time.  
As for Judy, I finally told her story because I wanted to allow my readers to compare between the "3 mothers". Shelby who's only known Rachel for little more than a week but cares so much for her and tries so hard. Quinn who doesn't even know how many weeks pregnant she is, but is already protective of it/him/her, wanting to give her child a better life than she had had. And then contrast them with Judy, who's been Quinn's mother all her life but is indisputably the worst mother of the three.  
Btw, I've corrected the error. Thanks for pointing it out!

Anon - It's okay, I didn't mean to make you feel bad about yourself. Thanks for enjoying my fic so much (:

JAMES-EAI - Yup. Oh dear, if this is how you feel, then how this chapter ends is probably going to make you feel rather horrible.

shiniso - Haha, that's what I thought ;P Nah, I can't let Rachel distract me right now. She really is so much easier to write, and the time-to-words ratio is so much lower when I write her story, making me feel much more productive. But no distractions please, Quinn's story needs to be told first (: Still the same old writing style this chapter, the change comes next chapter, and as for imaging things... I think most things my regular readers think of would be what happens to Quinn. If the imagining does get too bad, you can always PM me to find out a chronological order of what really happened. I already have it written very succinctly, with no descriptions whatsoever. However, I am really quite excited about the new style of writing and hope my readers enjoy it too (: Not much room for creative writing styles in the medical field, so this will be my first time, haha.

Guest - Nope, nothing is going to get swept under the rug. Even if considering the circumstances of _this_ pregnancy and Quinn's very private personality, if what happened in the show happens here, she would probably want me to sweep everything under the rug and pretend nothing ever happened.

Anon247 - Hahaha, no pressure indeed, thanks for that. Safe, certainly, Rachel is already pretty much safe, and Quinn will soon be safe too. Happy, though… We'll see. However, I must say that I doubt you should be reading my story if you're seeking "peace of mind". After all, aren't dramas supposed to disrupt our peace of mind? :P What fun would life be without them?

SA03 – Haha, what a succinct summary. Thanks for that, it made me laugh. This chapter (and the rest of the story) pretty much goes on in the same vein, hope you enjoy it.

Guest – Thanks! I always worry for the quality of my writing of Quinn, largely because it feels like I force a lot of it out, unlike Rachel's, which flows out quite easily when I write. Thanks for the encouragement, I'll keep trying my best (:

Jenn – A Hitchcock movie? Wow, that's high praise indeed, thank you. Although there will be no death and murderous plots coming, and I, for one, am glad for the better times ahead. Dark storylines like this are hard to write, and takes a lot out of me. At this point in time, I almost feel like Rachel and Quinn are both real patients of mine, which makes this almost personal. Quinn is headed for some difficult times, but I'll be really relieved when I can finally get her out of there.

Rini - Yup! They are poor excuses indeed, and with the last bit about Quinn, I wanted to show how even with he 16-year-old naivety, she's still a better mother than Judy is to Quinn. Quinn's rescue won't take too long, I promise, in the currency of chapters, though, not real-time, since I don't know how quickly I can continue to update. Look forward to hear from you again!

CarmellaD'Winter - Yup, Rachel is frustrating, and annoying, and stubborn, and repeats herself far too often. Hey, she needed a few flaws, and we all know from the show that she annoys the hell out of most people, so I decided on this. Besides, I thought it would be interesting to see how Shelby reacts to the hundredth time of Rachel expecting punishment. You know, the first time you're heartbroken, like you said, you want to hold her and reassure her. And the tenth time you're still sad, but the fiftieth time? You want to pull all your hair out in frustration. That's why you need the patience of a saint to be a therapist, I suppose. Don't worry, I won't be detailing _all_ hundred times, haha, just the significant ones, otherwise it would be repetitive, each episode adding little value to the story.

GreenLemons – Rachel has Shelby, whereas Quinn has no one, so personally, I would definitely want to hug Quinn more. I suppose the reverse would be true if Quinn was the one already rescued and Rachel was still stuck at home with her abusive fathers. I don't want to spoiler you as to whether or not Russell found out about the baby (or rather, _his_ baby), but I'll at least assure you that Quinn is getting out very soon. (: And after that, Rachel/Quinn bonding scenes will definitely occur as well. I have some planned out already, just need to decide where to slot them in.

**A/N. Warning: Triggers ahead! Please do read if you are easily traumatized. Violence, incest and language. No graphic sex.**

Chapter 23. To Obey

"Thank you," Rachel repeated, as she put on her pajamas. She felt a lot better now that the sweat and grime of the day had been washed away. It would have been much better if she could have enjoyed a nice shower, but just the gentle touch of the cool wet cloth had made her feel more comfortable and refreshed.

Still, although she was very appreciative of her mother's kindness in helping to wipe her down everyday, she was definitely looking forward to being able to shower on her own. Not only was it far more comfortable and refreshing, she was tired of being so reliant on her mother all the time. It made her feel weak, like a small, useless child, and she wanted her mother to know her as a strong, independent, helpful teenager, not this pathetic weakling she currently was.

She thought of her mother's words just before the sponge bath. Her mom had said that actions had their own natural consequences, and if Rachel was careless enough to injure herself and thus get denied Nurse Martha's permission to change her dressings to the waterproof ones she could bathe in, it would be entirely her own fault. While that was indisputably true, it was an awfully light punishment for such flagrant disobedience. She knew it was ridiculous for her to want to be punished but her mother's leniency was too good to be true. It was unnerving. She wasn't the one being weird, it was entirely normal for her to want to receive her deserved punishment now so that she could put this behind her.

Nevertheless, her mother was smiling now, and did not look like she was going to mete out punishment anytime soon, so Rachel returned her mother's kind smile tentatively with a small smile of her own. "Thank you," she repeated again, when the silence got too uneasy.

Shelby sighed. It shouldn't be so awkward to talk to her own daughter. They were family, talking shouldn't be this hard! She smiled at Rachel, hoping to ease the tension a little, and sighed inwardly when Rachel thanked her for the umpteenth time. Just like she had done every night this week, after every sponge bath.

A slight rumbling of her stomach saved her from her awkward indecision, reminding her that they had not had dinner yet. "Are you hungry?" Shelby asked.

Rachel looked up in surprise. If her mom truly did intend to feed her, she would do so without having to ask that horrid question, just like she had done every day for every meal this past week.

No! Her brain screamed at her. Her mom had said she wouldn't starve her, and had diligently been feeding her all three meals and more this week. She wasn't going to start starving her now – she couldn't!

She hated food restriction with a passion.

_She was already one month into the 1__st__ grade, but still had no friends. And to make matters worse, the table where she usually sat alone during lunch was occupied by a group of girls who had glared at her and booed her away when she dared to approach them and ask if she could sit with them._

_Lunchbox in hand, she walked slowly across the canteen, eyes darting around, hoping for someone to smile and wave her over but most of her classmates barely noticed her, too busy chatting boisterously with their own friends. Finally, she came to a table where only two students were sitting at. She didn't recognize the bespectacled, brown-haired boy, but the girl was Tina, a quiet Asian kid in her class. They were peering into each other's lunch boxes, making comments and exchanging various items._

_Gathering all her courage, she approached them. _

_"Good morning, she greeted. "May I sit here?" _

_The girl looked at her weirdly, then shrugged. "Sure. We're exchanging food! What do you have?"_

_Rachel opened her lunchbox, to reveal sticks of carrot and cucumber inside. She found them yummy and filling but from the look of disgust on the faces of the two other children, they clearly did not share her opinion._

_"Ew!" the boy said, wrinkling her nose and Rachel's eyes dropped down to her feet, swimming with tears that she valiantly managed to blink back. She turned to walk away when the girl called her back._

_"You can sit with us today," she decided, "but you have to bring better food if you want to sit with us tomorrow as well!"_

_"Like what?" Rachel asked, plopping down happily beside her new friend, as she removed a stick of carrot from her lunchbox and munched on it happily._

_"Good stuff! Like Oreos or chips. Artie likes potato chips. I prefer cakes and pastries!"_

_"Okay," Rachel agreed, although inside, her mind was whirring away, wondering how she was going to get her hands on those sort of snacks. She knew her fathers bought them, and kept them in their cabinet but she was strictly forbidden from eating them. Still, Dad had just bought a large box of Oreos yesterday, maybe he wouldn't mind if she borrowed a few? Not for herself to eat, she wouldn't disobey Dad like that! She wouldn't eat them, just exchange them for two new friends. Surely Dad loved her and would want her to have friends, right?_

_The next two days, she brought two packets of Oreos each for her two friends. He whined about the lack of variety, so on the third day, she brought a packet of barbeque flavoured potato chips, his favourite, he had mentioned._

_On the fourth day, she walked into the canteen empty handed. _

_"Where's your food?" Artie asked. _

_Tina frowned at her downtrodden face for a moment, then spoke up too. "Where's your lunchbox and those yucky vegetables?"_

_"I'm sorry. I… I didn't bring anything today," Rachel mumbled to the floor and sprinted away, only allowing herself to burst into tears when she reached the bathroom. She locked the door in one of the cubicles and knelt on the floor, clutching her stomach as hunger pangs wracked her body and tears of self pity rolled down her cheeks. Yucky vegetables indeed! She hadn't been fed dinner last night or breakfast this morning either, what she wouldn't give for just a piece of cucumber, she thought, sobbing her little 6-year-old heart out. _

_When she finished crying, she gulped down all the water in her water bottle, reminding herself to get more from the water cooler later. She left only a cupful of water behind. The tepid water filled her belly, easing the hunger just a little and she sighed contentedly even though she knew the sensation of fullness wouldn't last. _

_Gently lifting her skirt, she twisted around to examine the welts and blisters on her red and swollen bottom. Last night, Dad had spanked her with the hairbrush until a crop of blisters appeared on her lower cheeks, right where he knew she would have to sit on all day during her lessons. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, he had whipped her with his belt for the first time! The pain had been horrible, each stroke worse than ten spanks of the hairbrush, and she had howled and begged for mercy, which had only increased his anger. But the pain had been so bad that not even his angry screaming and the bonus spanks on her inner thighs had managed to silence her loud protests at the unbearable pain being inflicted on her. _

_She tore off a few squares of toilet paper and soaked it with the little water she had left behind, before gently wiping her blistered bottom with it. The water felt cool to the touch, even though the rough surface of the toilet paper wasn't her first choice to wipe the raw, sensitive skin with. Thankfully, there was no bleeding, but the belting and then sitting on her poor bum in lessons all morning had burst most of the blisters. _

_The thought of having to sit in class for 3 more lessons on these broken blisters, filled her with dread, but that wasn't the worst of it. No, it was what was awaiting her at home that made her start crying anew. Dad had promised her five days of food restriction and five nights of spankings - one each for every food item she had stolen. _

_She was never going to steal food ever again._

She really did hate food restriction. It wasn't just the gnawing stomach pains and the psychological torture of watching others eat while she was starving. The lack of food, with its accompanying light-headedness and fatigue, also made everything harder - it was harder to perform, harder to do her chores, and even harder to submit to various other punishments which her poor work performance would eventually lead to.

The hunger made it so much more difficult to conceal her emotions and control her temper, and on a few occasions, she had even screamed at her Dad that his punishments and expectations weren't fair. Needless to say, those screaming fits had earned her far worse punishments and far longer periods of food restriction, sometimes even water restriction, especially during the weekends. It was one of her worse punishments, to have to run on her elliptical while hungry and dehydrated, desperate for the workout to end but knowing that there wasn't going to be refreshing water awaiting her at the end of it, just further punishment for failing to meet her target.

And despite these repeated punishments of food restriction, she had never really learnt to properly maintain self-control for days on end, when she was starving. It was so much harder than just having to keep silent and still for a few minutes while getting beaten.

It just wasn't fair to put her on food restriction _now_, she protested indignantly. Shelby simply couldn't feed her so well for one week and get her used to increased amounts of nutrition only to take it all away again! It would make the food restriction that much worse and that much harder to bear up under. This was yet another frustrating example of how she was too confusing and self-contradictory - Even if she was new to parenting, she needed to figure out her game plan and stick to it! Rachel stomped her foot in annoyance, fuming silently, before she realized her mother was watching her and quickly schooled her face into a more neutral expression.

She blushed, ashamed at her thoughts, hoping that Shelby couldn't read her mind and didn't know what she had just gotten angry about. Under her mother's watchful stare, her indignation sounded childish and ridiculous now. After all the kindness and leniency her mother had shown her, had she just _objected_ to being punished? She was getting way too spoilt. Dad was right, she needed regular punishments to stay on the straight and narrow, she disobeyed and grew defiant far too easily otherwise.

If this was how her mother chose to punish her, she had to accept it submissively, she told herself, remembering her earlier promise to be grateful for any and all discipline her mother chose to mete out to her, to show her mother she was a good girl worth keeping.

She swallowed hard and stared at her feet. Her head was swimming with too many thoughts, it felt like it was going to explode. Tears leaked out at the corner of her eyes. She just didn't know what to do anymore.

Shelby watched, bewildered, as Rachel's facial expressions changed from confusion, to anger, to shame, and finally back to confusion again. Confusion mixed with.. sadness? She felt equally confused, what had she done wrong? Retracing the last few minutes in her mind, she suddenly realized it was she had _said_ that was wrong, not what she had done.

What an idiot! Shelby scolded herself. How quickly she had forgotten Rachel's response to that same question on the day they had first met. Besides, how could Rachel not be hungry? It was already past eight and they hadn't had dinner yet.

"Of course you must be hungry, and I'm not going to starve you," Shelby told her firmly, hoping she had guessed right. Otherwise, such a statement would at the very least, seem much too strange, and worst case scenario, might plant the idea of such a possibility in her head. But she needed to say something to alleviate Rachel's obvious distress, and from the look on Rachel's face, she had guessed right after all.

"I'm sorry I forgot about... this. I merely wanted to ask what you wanted to eat... I mean..." Shelby sighed. "You said your fathers were 'firmly committed to take out', right? What dishes do you prefer? Where did they normally order from?"

Rachel blinked at her mom. She wasn't going to starve her? Her mother looked sad, almost hurt, and she had stuttered... She never stuttered! She was poised, elegant and confident. She'd also asked her a direct question, though, one that she evidently expected an answer to.

"Chinese. We normally order from Chang's Chinese Cuisine. Daddy likes Chinese food, especially their pork rib noodles. I normally have the sweet and sour tofu."

"Okay. I'll order that then. We could eat while watching some TV and you could rest on the couch instead of in your room. Sounds good?"

Rachel nodded and remained silent, unsure of what to say, and Shelby continued talking, if only to fill the silence. "I managed to set the television up yesterday. All those wires nearly drove me crazy. The reception is still a little off, but DVDs play well. What's your favourite movie?"

Rachel frowned and did not reply but Shelby saw that her eyes flickered over to her book cupboard, where a framed picture of Barbra Streisand stood proudly, taking center stage on her book shelf.

"How about Funny Girl?" Shelby asked, and was rewarded at last with a shy smile from Rachel.

"You like Barbra Streisand too?"

"Like her? I love her! Who do you think gave you your middle name?" Shelby asked with a smile.

"It was you!" Rachel exclaimed, her nervousness momentarily forgotten. "I knew it had to be you. Dad and Daddy very much preferred television series and sitcoms like their favourite 'Friends', from which they got the name 'Rachel', of course, but they never enjoyed Broadway musicals as much as I did. I knew it had to be my mother who named me after the fabulous Barbra Streisand! She's so talented, it had to be her I was named after! Did you know…"

Shelby laughed, nodding her head. She was a great admirer of Barbra herself, she wouldn't have asked the Berrys to give Rachel this middle name otherwise, but in this moment, she just became Barbra's greatest fan. This was the first time she had seen such excitement and animation in Rachel's normally fearful face, the first time she actually looked like a typical teenager, gushing enthusiastically over her favourite idol.

When Rachel finally paused to catch a breath, Shelby interjected. "So it's decided, then, we'll have Chinese food and watch 'Funny Girl'?"

"If you want to as well," Rachel replied, trying to be polite but from the way she was grinning and nodding her head excitedly, eyes shining, it was impossible to deny her.

At least this time, her eyes are shining with excitement, not tears, Shelby thought gratefully, her love for Barbra growing by the minute.

…

**[Warning: Triggers ahead! If violence and incest makes you squeamish, every time you reach Quinn's part, just skip forward to the next "..." to continue reading just Rachel's story.] **

Her father's car drove into the driveway, and Quinn held her breath, awaiting the verdict. It was time.

"Quinn! Come down now!" Russell yelled a few seconds later.

Shit! He sounded seriously pissed. Being called downstairs, however, was probably a good thing, he only did _those_ things in her bedroom, never in the living room where her mother could see them. Still, she needed to hurry in order to not anger him any further, she told herself, as she hurried down the stairs.

"Welcome home, Father," she greeted as politely as she could. "How was your..."

She was not given a chance to continue, however as she was rudely and abruptly cut of.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Quinn startled. "What do you mean? I..."

"Don't play dumb with me," Russell snapped angrily. "Do you know who else attended the conference?"

Quinn shook her head. What did that matter?

"Robert Chang, that Chink! And as if that's not bad enough, he brought his wife with him. As though a _woman_ has any place at such an important business conference!"

'Right. It's not all women you're against, isn't it? Just your wife. Unlike Mr Chang, you would never bring your wife to such conferences, because how else are you going to engage escorts and prostitutes?'

Judy's impassive face, however, gave no clue to her bitter thoughts, as she stood in the shadows and watched the confrontation between the two people she hated most in the world. At least judging by Russell's anger, that slut was going to get pain tonight, not pleasure.

"And she dared to talk to me! As if I would be interested in anything a _woman_ would have to say," Russell continued, in a low and dangerous voice that sent shivers down Quinn's spine. "But oh, she had some very interesting things to share with me."

"She showed me a photo in her cellphone. It was of a text you sent to her son. A text he told her you sent to _the whole school_. Orders to slushy that gay kid, along with threats of the consequences if they didn't."

He paused to allow his words to sink in before continuing.

"You lied to me, Quinn. You said you didn't do anything personally, that nothing could be traced back to you. Well, what do you call a text that every one of your schoolmates is in possession of, you fucking idiot? If any one of your imbecile friends had shown it to the principal, everyone would know. And what do you think the _Reverend_ would say if he got wind of this text? What do you think my friends and colleagues will think about how I raised you? I raised you to be at the top, not to be this fucking useless fool!"

Quinn shuddered. Shit! She hadn't thought about that, she was really in for it now. She fought to keep her hands by her side and not wrap them around her tummy protectively. She couldn't let him find out about _that_ too. If he thought her bullying - that he had ordered in the first place - would reflect badly on him to his church leaders and colleagues, she didn't want to imagine how furious he would be if he found out she was also pregnant.

_When he found out she was pregnant._

She wondered too, what the Reverend would think if he knew, knew that she, the model of a 'perfect Christian teenager', was in fact, knocked up by her sexually abusive father. Russell Fabray, the darling of both the church and the secular business world. Not that he would ever find out about her father, it was far too shameful.

"Strip," Russell commanded, shocking Quinn out of her thoughts.

What the hell?

"H... Here?"

"Why not? You have absolutely no sense of shame, haven't you?"

"B...but..." Quinn clutched her nightgown around herself desperately, even as logically, she knew that her father could easily overpower her and rip them from her hands.

"Strip!" Russell repeated, shouting this time. "Did I raise you to disobey me as well? To question my orders?"

Quinn looked wildly around the room and spotted her mother in the corner. "Please, Mother..." she pleaded, stepping closer to where Judy was standing.

But Judy met her gaze steadfastly, her face an expressionless mask, as she merely continued to stand with her arms folded in front of her, leaning against the wall. Clearly, she was not going to lift a finger to help her daughter.

"Look at me, and not your useless mother, you insolent girl!" Russell yelled, lifting a hand to slap Quinn across the left cheek, hard. Quinn was looking at her mother and failed to see the incoming slap until it was too late, and having not braced herself, fell to the ground. She stared at her father in shock, even more convinced that she couldn't obey him and remove her clothes. Her mother was still watching them unflinchingly, there was no way she was going to intervene on her behalf. Her clothes were the only things protecting her now, and his rising violence and that order only meant one thing, he was going to beat the crap out of her, probably with his belt.

"N...no...," she whimpered, and was proven right when he roared in anger at her defiance, and slid his belt out of his trousers, in one quick motion.

"Don't you dare pretend that you've got any shame or righteous virtue to protect, you bitch!"

Quinn's eyes widened in shock, wondering how he had managed to find out about her pregnancy but her queries were quickly answered.

"You and those two sluts you love to sleep over with. Mrs Chang told me the whole school knows those two are sleeping with each other. You fucking dyke! Have you been having sex with them too? How long have you been whoring yourself out to those sluts?"

Quinn's indignation was quickly replaced by terror, as he advanced on her and grabbing her nightgown by its two straps, ripped in apart from collar to hem. He grabbed her by her hair, nearing tearing it off her scalp, and dragged her to the centre of the room, throwing her onto the coffee table. She landed across its width, her lower body still on the floor, and she tried to find strength in her legs to move away. However, he was quicker and stood at her head, pressing one foot against her back so she could not escape, and driven by his fury, whipping his belt down with all the strength he could muster.

…

The familiar strains of the musical filled their living room but for the first time, Shelby was too distracted to properly enjoy her favorite movie. She looked across her, noticing that Rachel definitely did not share the same problems. She was leaning forward, her unblinking eyes wide open as though she was afraid to miss anything. Even though she must have seen this show a hundred times, judging by the way her lips were moving constantly, silently repeating every line of conversation and lyric. Shelby smiled at how much Rachel was enjoying herself and congratulated herself on having chosen well.

Relaxing back onto the couch with a sigh of relief at having survived yet another mini crisis, Shelby tried to make some sense of her disorganized thoughts. Their misunderstanding in Rachel's room hadn't been the end of it. When dinner had arrived, Rachel had laid out her mom's dinner on the coffee table but made no move towards her own, even though her eyes had darted hungrily at it. However, her gestures had not escaped her mother's notice, and Shelby had quietly returned the favour for Rachel, which earned her another grateful teary-eyed smile. Then Rachel had sat herself down on the floor of the living room, and only moved onto the couch on Shelby's insistence, admitting that she hadn't sat on a couch in the past 10 years. Seriously, who knew what the Berry bastards were thinking, what the hell was wrong with sitting on the _couch_?

She hmphed angrily at the memory. Unfortunately, that was enough to distract Rachel from the show.

"What's wrong, mom?" Rachel asked, tearing her eyes away from her idol to look at her mother.

Shelby hid her frustration behind a quick, false smile, but when she raised a hand to caress Rachel's long hair, there was nothing fake about her love for her daughter.

"Nothing, honey. You really do enjoy this movie, don't you?" Shelby asked, pausing the show so they could talk for a bit without Rachel having to miss anything.

"Yup! It's such an amazing story," Rachel gushed. "The story of how Fannie Brice, a talented but atypically beautiful becomes a star is so beautiful and inspiriting! And of course, Barbra is absolutely brilliant! She's such an icon! Her acting is fantastic, and her voice is so full of emotion, it's like she's telling you a million other things just through her voice alone."

Shelby nodded in agreement, smiling at Rachel's verbosity about her idol, congratulating herself at not just having chosen a great movie but also a very suitable middle name for her daughter. She quickly pressed 'Play', and Rachel turned her attention back to the television.

As Rachel continued to watch the movie with rapt attention, Shelby slipped her arm around Rachel's neck and pulled her gently onto the couch and closer towards herself. She ran her hand through Rachel's hair again, thankful for moments like this. How did Rachel oscillate from being fearful of a beating or starvation one minute to gushing about Barbra Streisand the next? Was she or was she not scared of her?

Whatever it was, now was not the time to linger on such thoughts, she decided. This was such a rare beautiful moment, when Rachel did not look like the weight of the world was weighing down on her shoulders, and actually looked like she was enjoying herself. She should savor it while it lasts.

Rachel stared at her mother's arm slung casually around her shoulders like it was a foreign object. Shelby sensed her staring and smiled down at her, although she didn't remove the arm. In fact, she clutched her slim shoulder even more tightly, pulling her in so that Rachel's entire body rested against her. Rachel was much shorter than her and her head only came up to Shelby's shoulder, fitting comfortably into the crook of her neck.

It was Rachel's turn to be distracted from her favourite movie by the unfamiliar sensation of a casual arm slung across her back, so very gently that it didn't hurt the welts and bruises there at all. And the feeling of leaning against her mother, laying her head just beside her mother's breast…

It felt… nice. Warm. Not just because her mother's physical warmth helped keep away the coldness of the night – she also felt the warmth deep down inside, within her heart. It was an impossible thought, because… How could it be true? After all the mistakes she had made, all the times she had been disobedient, and especially since she hadn't atoned for any of them yet. Still, the feeling was unmistakable.

It felt like love.

...

Quinn screamed as the belt slashed down on her defenseless body again and again. Her thin undergarments afforded her bottom no protection at all, and that was not the only place he aimed at. Fueled by his rage, he was striking her wildly, not caring where he hit her.

She struggled valiantly, but his hold on her was too strong and she could not get away from the stinging lashes of the belt. Gradually, her strength gave out, and she collapsed against the table, sobbing at the pain that seemed to encompass her entire body, setting it on fire.

After what seemed like an eternity, Russell finally stopped. Quinn continued to lie there, slumped over the table, sobbing from the throbbing pain that continued to pulse through her body, too weak to move away.

"Disgraceful," Russell spat. "Stop snivelling and get up!"

When she did not obey immediately, he removed his foot and used it to nudge her off the table. Still, she made no significant movements, lying crumpled onto the floor, twitching and quivering in pain, hoping that if she kept as silent as possible, he would leave her alone.

"Present yourself properly for punishment, and maybe I'll let you off with a dozen more."

No! Still sobbing, Quinn raised her head and stared up at her father disbelievingly, unable to fathom how her father could think she had not been punished enough, but Russell merely pointed to the coffee table with a cold, expectant look on his face. To emphasise his point, he lashed down on her back once more, and this time, she moved voluntarily, dragging her battered body over to the coffee table where she had just received such a terrible beating.

He drew the belt across her shaking shoulders, right down to her twitching bottom, mocking her. She clenched in anticipation, sucking in her breath when she felt the belt lift up, then whistle through the air to land on her raw skin once more. A line of burning, agonizing pain erupted across her bottom and she screamed, gripping the table top tightly so she would not move out of position.

She never knew how she managed to stay on that table without being held down, as her father slashed one stinging stroke after another onto her half-naked body, reigniting the fiery pain. He had promised her a dozen but she lost count after the first one, in too much pain to distinguish between the individual strokes, the excruciating pain from each cruel lash blending into the next.

Eventually, he stopped, and this time, Quinn did not lie there any longer than she had to. She rolled off the table, choking back a scream when her lacerated bottom came into contact with the hard marble floor, and curled up into herself, tears of pain and self-pity still streaming down her cheeks.

"Go up to your room, strip completely and wait for me," he commanded.

Quinn's sobbing increased, unable to believe that after that vicious beating, her father was still going to do even more unspeakable things to her. Had he not done enough already? She shook her head widely and choked out, "Please... No more..."

"Still defiant?!" Russell yelled, enraged. He drew his leg back and planted a forceful kick right in the middle of Quinn's abdomen, almost forcing her to vomit out all the contents of her stomach. She coughed pathetically and sobbed even more, but managed to gather up all her strength to pull herself up and half walk, half crawl up the stairs to her room.

She furiously rubbed away the tears in her eyes in order to better see where she was going, but steadfastly refused to look at her mother. Judy was still standing in the corner of the room, watching the scene playing out in front of her with an air of disinterest, her face still as devoid of emotion as it had been an hour ago.

...

The credits rolled, and Shelby turned to Rachel, intending to tell her that it was way past bedtime and she should go to bed now, only to discover that her child had fallen asleep sometime during the movie. Rachel's face was a picture of peaceful serenity.

For a moment, she sat there, watching her daughter, as the music from the credits continued to play in the background. She smiled. It didn't matter how many mistakes she made or how hard this parenting job was working out to be. All the difficulties in the world were worth it as long as there were also moments like this, as long as her daughter was with her. Although she couldn't help wishing that Rachel could always look as peaceful as this. She wished, not for the first time, that as her mother, she could take on all of Rachel's pain and bad memories, if only for a day.

As softly as she could, she supported Rachel's head off her chest, and carried Rachel to her room. She was still surprisingly light - far too light for a teenager turning 15 soon, but for once, Shelby was glad for that fact, because it allowed her to carry her and climb up the stairs at the same time without too much jostling around. She must have had an exhausting day, Shelby thought to herself because thankfully, Rachel only snuggled her head against Shelby's chest and sighed contentedly, never waking up from her deep slumber.

...

Quinn looked down at her battered, half-naked body, surveying the damage, knowing her back would look far worse than her front. She dropped her ruined night gown on the floor and stared at her undergarments, torn and tattered by multiple cuts of the belt, and her face reddened in shame at the thought that she would soon have to lose them too.

She should have obeyed him, she realized. She shouldn't have defied him, it had only made him even angrier. Maybe if she hadn't, her punishment wouldn't have been so bad. The beating would have come regardless of whether she had obeyed him, she should have known that her escape on Monday was unlikely to have repeated itself, that he would strip her and beat her anyway, no matter what she did. He was too strong, there was no way she could resist him.

She gently caressed her abdomen where he had just kicked her, praying that the kick hadn't hurt her baby in any way. She had to remember to obey him, to not fight him. Monday was an anomaly that was never going to happen ever again, she had to kill that hope right now. She didn't just have herself to think about tonight, she had to protect her baby as well. Even if its father was a bastard from hell, she was also the baby's other parent, the baby's mother.

She wasn't like her useless statue of a mother, she would protect her child, at whatever cost to herself.

She moved her hands to unhook her bra straps behind her, but to her surprise, could not keep her pain wracked body from trembling with fear and exhaustion. How had the beating, however vicious, depleted her of the stamina that she had been so proud of?

She bit down hard on her lips and tried again, this time managing to steady her fingers long enough to undo the hooks. Sobbing with the shame of having to do this to herself, she moved her hands to the hem of her panties and removed those as well.

**A/N. Firstly, thank you monkeyme and Shana, for noticing and alerting me to my mistake in the last chapter. Quinn is 16 now, not 17, my bad. **

**Secondly, in my flashback, Tina isn't stuttering and Artie isn't in a wheelchair, because they're still in the 1****st**** grade. Tina only started stuttering to get out of an oral report in 6****th**** grade and Artie got into the car crash when he was eight (S01E09 Wheels). Since in my story, Rachel skipped 2****nd**** grade, she is still classmates with Tina and Artie here in 1****st**** grade. I hope I'm right in my calculations that 1st grade = 6 years old?  
**

**Thirdly, I don't mean any offense or discrimination when I use insult-words like 'Chink' and 'dyke'. I am a Chinese, I love being a Chinese and I would never insult my own race. My use of these words are solely to demonstrate Russell's bigoted attitude, which is an insult to **_**him**_**, not to Chinese people or homosexuals.**

**Last but not least, onto what I think most of you are more concerned about. I'm guessing this cliffhanger is going to frustrate many of you. I'm sorry I had to do it. The next chapter, which you'll be glad to know I've already started on, is written in a slightly different style, and changing my writing style halfway through a chapter is kind of weird, and makes me feel schizophrenic. As though my constant switching between two parallel storylines (Rachel's and Quinn's) isn't schizo enough already. **

**Besides, I figured 2 weeks (almost 2 weeks... 10 days) is long enough, and didn't want to keep you guys waiting any further. Next chapter is probably another 2-week wait away, not just because of the nature of the content makes it difficult to write, but also because life has gotten hectic, and 1 weeks' worth of traveling time is no longer sufficient for me to finish a chapter, haha. Especially since my chapters seem to be elongating themselves against my will and beyond my time management skills. So I doubt you'll be getting weekly updates again, unless you get really really lucky, sorry about that. Nevertheless, I hope the updates will be worth the 2-week wait (: **

**Hang in there, Quinn's rescue is coming soon, I promise! If you can, let me know what you thought of the graphic-ness of this chapter. I tried to say more about what Quinn was feeling, rather than what was happening to her. Your opinions would be a great help to me when I write the next chapter, which as you might guess, will be a much harder chapter to write non-graphically (hence the previously mentioned change in writing style).  
**


	26. Escape

BiggestGleekForeva-Puck's Girl – Oh wow. 133,000+ words in 1 hour is ridiculously fast, that's 37 words per second, you must be an amazing speed reader. Sorry for your frustration when you hit Chapter 25 (although technically, it's Chapter 23, due to my two Author's Notes). Quinn's decision is strange and almost perverse, but I get what you mean, it's a tough decision to make, but for her, it's the right decision, and I, too, admire her bravery for choosing this difficult path. She's already an amazing mom, far better than Judy is, at any rate. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'm sorry you won't have any more chance to practise your speed reading skills, since the chapters will probably be coming about once every 2 weeks from now on… Hope you keep following the story and keep reviewing (:

NZgleek91 – Yea, I wanted to make use of the Broadway-ness of mother and daughter to bring them together. Abuse and beatings aren't the most fun topics to bond over. As for Russell, oh man, I almost can't believe you're glad that Russell is back because of the _drama_. I would have been more understanding if it was because you knew Quinn was going to be safe soon. Still, I said 'almost' because I'm a big fan of drama myself, and maybe I would have been looking forward to his return too, if I were the reader and not the writer (who actually has/had to dream up and write the horribleness of what happens when Russell returns).

JAMES-EAI – Yup, Quinn and Rachel will eventually become friends. That has always been the goal, and I'm looking forward to then, because that will mean I can stop getting dizzy oscillating between two storylines, haha. Oh dear, I'm sorry I made you cry. Things will get better for Quinn soon too, I promise!

CarmellaD'Winter – There'll be more touching mother/daughter moments for Rachel, although there will, of course, be more drama as well. Quinn's situation is tough, but it can only get better from here, right? I'm not sure Judy's happy – I don't think she's ever happy – I think she's more in the range of satisfied or indifferent, which actually doesn't make it better. Sorry for the long wait, hope this chapter was worth it (:

JWilson18 – It's coming! Hope you enjoy this chapter (:

Shana – Wow, you've certainly come a long way from when you hoping for just a pregnancy scare in your Chapter 15 review. I'm so glad you're worried about the baby. Babies are so precious, and in Quinn's case, it's not just that the baby is all that Quinn has got. Quinn is all the baby has got too. Quinn and Finn. But the baby definitely means so much more to Quinn, and she's the only one who knows the truth about him/her for now. Thank you for your reassurance that the descriptions were not too graphic but still scary and crazy enough. That was totally what I was going for! (: Hope this chapter was worth your sleepless nights :D

Rini – Sorry, for the brutality of it, I wanted it to be such, in order to explain Quinn's later actions in this chapter (omg, I almost typed 'episode', haha, cos I just watch S04E01 XD). She'll be safe soon, but even then, I'm not sure she would allow you to hug her, haha. Her eventual parent will be good to her, I promise, although as with Rachel/Shelby, Quinn's relationship with Parent X will still have its share of problems. By the way, even though I started writing this chapter before I received your review, it still made me feel very very happy when I read that flashbacks make for easier reading than chronological descriptions. I suppose you'll understand this comment as the chapters come along. Don't want to spoil it for you! Let me know after this chapter if you still don't understand what I'm referring to.

Guest – I hate Judy too. I hope the past I've given her somewhat explains her actions and thoughts but still, having a screwed up husband and making stupid decisions in your teens is no excuse to be a screwed up mother yourself. Quinn is getting out soon!

renata – Thank you! Awesome, you discovered it 'yesterday' but are reviewing Chapter 25, which means you must have read the entire thing in one day! To answer your question, yes, the other gleeks will find out the truth about Rachel's fathers in due time. She's going to meet her fathers again before the court case as well. The court case will definitely be written into the story, but I'm not sure if I'll write any actual court scenes, since I'm pretty ignorant about all things legal, haha. We'll see how it goes (:

Jenn – Yep! Shelby needed a good night. Looking after Rachel has taken a huge toll on her, and it was nice to see them happy for once. No doubt there'll still be rough times ahead, but like she said, as long as there are also sweet moments like that, it'd be worth it. If you want to know, I oscillated between Rachel's and Quinn's storylines for that same purpose, to contrast between their two families. Rachel's mind might still be trapped in her fathers' crazy world, but at least she's been physically freed and now safe, whereas Quinn is both mentally and physically trapped by her parents. I hope this chapter satisfies you.

Anon – Yes! It won't be long now for Quinn, I promise. I really enjoyed writing the Rachel/Shelby scene, and I look forward to writing how Quinn learns what real parents are like.

Anon – Haha, why do you read & review on your phone if you hate it so much? Thanks (:

GreenLemons – Wow! Sounds like you really want to know. Let me see… Where she's going, she'll not just find a parent/parents, she's also going to gain a friend. Hope you get the clue, or even if you don't, I hope it at least makes you happy.

Guest – It's okay, I get it. And I can take it. After this chapter, things will start getting better for her. It doesn't take away the bad crap that has happened to her, but I hope you stick around for the better days ahead (:

shiniso – He was angry. I guess Quinn seldom gives him opportunities to get angry at her so I thought the text would be appropriate. But sigh, he gets angry at the right thing (texting the school to slushy Rachel) for the wrong reasons (the text vs bullying), and of course, goes WAY overboard.  
I love that you're so concerned for the baby. Let's see, initially, you didn't like that she could be pregnant (Chapter 15), then you wanted Russell to beat her until she miscarries (Chapter 17), and now you're hoping the baby isn't hurt. I love your transformation :D Yeah, it's kinda weird but I get it. Quinn is in such a bad fix now, that you want her baby to be safe, because she loves it so much and really wants it.

meglys - Thanks! Wow, your timing is impeccable. If their road to healing is what you're looking for, you started following this fic at just the right time (:

**A/N. I have added an introduction before Chapter 1, to explain which scenes in canon inspired the writing of this fic. I copied it from a review I wrote to snowdrop1026 some time ago, so it might be familiar to you if you're the kind who reads all my replies to reviewers, hunting for spoilers. Another thing is, I was going through my previous chapters, mostly just to edit my English, when I discovered to my horror that I somehow managed to lose two paragraphs in my last chapter, so the flow of the story hardly made sense. I've added them back in, they're just before Rachel's flashback.  
**

**As for this chapter, it was meant to be longer, but as always, I'm still having problems writing the latter parts, hence the earlier than expected update (and the previously mentioned English-editting). I decided that in this case, you guys would probably want whatever is written first, especially considering what happens in this chapter is what most of you have been looking forward to (and bugging me for) for a long long time. Enjoy! :D  
**

Chapter 24. Escape

Santana smiled as she brushed back the long black hair that she loved so much. Caucasians could keep their blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin, she much preferred the black hair, brown eyes and tan skin of her own people. She remembered a time, very long ago, when white kids used to tease her for being Hispanic, and smirked. She'd showed those bigoted assholes that a Latina could fight just as well as any white boy, and they had left her well alone after that. It had been years since anyone had dared to bully her, and with good reason too.

"Rap-tat-tat."

She startled at the strange sound. Looking towards her doorway to see who was knocking on her door, she frowned. The door was open, but there was no one there. Probably just her imagination, she decided, as she lifted her hairbrush to continue brushing her hair. It was late and she wanted to sleep soon.

"Rap-tat-tat-tat-tat."

It was that sound again, more urgently this time. There was no one was at the door but the sound seemed to be coming from the other side of her room instead. She turned to look at her window, and got the fright of her life. Blonde hair and green eyes were outside her window, hanging precariously on her window sill, knocking incessantly on her window.

Quinn stopped knocking when she saw that she had gotten Santana's attention, and hurriedly grabbed the edge of the window sill, as though she was going to fall.

"Santana! Open your window and let me in, please!" she urged in a whisper. "Hurry, I don't know how much longer I can hold on."

Santana got over her shock and rushed over quickly. Lifting the window pane up in one smooth motion, she reached out and helped her friend in. She knew Quinn was athletic but seriously, what on earth was she thinking, climbing up the walls of her house in the middle of the night?

When she finally managed to help Quinn into her room, however, that question was quickly replaced by a far more important one.

"Oh my God, Q, what the hell happened to you?!"

"S, I… I didn't know where to go, who to go to…" Her shaky legs gave out under her just as she climbed into the room, and she almost crumbled to the ground. Fortunately, Santana caught her just in time.

"Lie down here on my bed," Santana urged, and had to help her to walk the few steps to the king-sized bed they normally slept on in their sleepovers. "Damn, Q, who did this to you? You look like shit."

Quinn shook her head. She _felt_ like shit, she didn't need her friend to tell her she looked that way too. She protested Santana's help feebly, not wanting to appear weak and pathetic in front of her friend, but at least she complied with Santana's instructions to lie down on the bed.

It was no hardship, really, what little energy that she'd had left after her father's brutal treatment had been sapped away by her frenzied escape. The adrenaline rush that had fueled her insane escape was fast fading, however, and she found herself completely physically and emotionally drained. Despite her normal fitness, she had barely managed to climb into Santana's house and now she collapsed on the bed, still breathing heavily, sweat glistening on her fatigued frame and seeping into the mattress.

Santana barely noticed. She looked up and down Quinn's body, at a loss of what to do next.

"Wait here, I'll call for Papi," she instructed. "He'll know what to do."

Quinn shook her head again, more furiously this time.

"No! Please, S, please don't! I just wanted somewhere to hide, to sleep a little, I'll be out of your house by tomorrow morning, I swear! Please don't tell your parents," Quinn begged.

But it was too late, Santana was already at the door.

"Papi! Come quick!" she yelled from her door, needing her father to come immediately but not wanting to leave her distraught friend alone. True enough, when she turned around, Quinn was making her way back to the window on trembling legs, barely holding herself up and leaning heavily against the wall for support, but slowly inching her away towards the window.

"No! What the hell is wrong with you? Lie back down, you idiot. You're bleeding, you're injured, damn it! Who the hell did this to you anyway? Do your parents even know where you are?" Santana reached Quinn in two quick steps and pulled the taller girl back down onto the bed, a little more roughly than she had intended, and Quinn cried out in pain as she landed heavily on the bed.

Shit! She hadn't expected her normally stronger Captain to barely offer any resistance at all. "I'm sorry," Santana apologised, and continued in a softer voice. "Don't worry. My father is a doctor, and he works at the emergency department sometimes. He can help you. Do your parents know you're here? Shall I call them?"

Quinn kept shaking her head, sobs wracking her pathetic frame, her energy spent. Her behaviour shocked Santana, even though she tried her best to hide her surprise and focus on helping her friend. In all the years she had been friends and teammates with Quinn, the blonde had always been cool and aloof. Even when she was angry, her icy mask always remained firmly in place. Although truthfully, she did not need any of Santana's fiery temper – the sharp daggers her cold eyes shot at you when you made her angry, were enough to make your blood freeze in your veins. That look alone had been known to make entire batches of freshmen Cheerios cry and any other student throw themselves into the dumpster just to get out of her way.

Santana had always thought Quinn rarely genuinely smiled, but come to think of it, her tears were even rarer than her smiles. She never cried when Coach Sylvester tortured them during punishment training sessions, she did not cry when Coach gave her a public dressing down in front of the entire team for being late for training, and she hardly even teared when they watched movies during their sleepovers, movies ranging from touching sob stories to horror movies. Never once had she ever seen Quinn shed a single tear, much less break down so completely like this.

"No," Quinn finally gasped. "Please don't call them, please don't call my parents. My father… he was the one who…" Her voice faltered here and she looked up to Santana's face, searching for something, Santana didn't know what. Santana squeezed her hand in encouragement and Quinn must have found what she was looking for in Santana's eyes because at last, she continued speaking.

"My father raped me."

Dr Lopez rushed to his daughter's room when she heard her shout. This had better be important, he thought to himself. Since her puberty, Santana had become prone to occasional dramatics but something in her voice, a desperate quality he had never heard before, told him that this was different. Besides, he could make out another female voice in the room with his daughter, which was odd since he had been sitting on the couch by the front door all evening and had not heard anyone come in.

He took the stairs two at a time and arrived at Santana's room door just in time to hear the other girl's last four words, words that made his blood boil with fury. "... My father raped me."

The voice was understandably soft and fearful but clear and audible enough that there was no mistaking what she had said.

No! His mind screamed at him but he forced himself to clear his mind. Even if this girl was an unknown invader in his house, she was also clearly a patient, and right now, his patient. Like with any other patient, he needed to maintain his professionalism. Figure out what was wrong and treat her first, then get the bastard rapist arrested. Dealing with his feelings and all that other crap could wait.

"Hi, I'm Dr Lopez," he greeted when he entered the room but the girl only looked at him for barely a second before turning away to look at Santana reproachfully. Santana gently pushed her towards him, but she stubbornly refused, hiding her face with her hands and shaking her head.

"What hurts?" he asked, even as his eyes roamed over the girl's body. She looked familiar, like he had seen her before, but he couldn't quite place her face.

Quinn tensed as she saw Santana's father approach her. Although he rarely interacted with her, he had always been kind to her, and she had never felt threatened by him until tonight. As his masculine frame moved towards her, towering over her, she backed away fearfully, scooting back until she reached the other side of the bed, where she met resistance in the form of a confused Santana.

"Let me go, S… Please… I'm sorry…" she begged as she struggled and tried, without success, to get past her friend to reach the window. He was blocking her way to the door, the window was her only escape route. "I'm sorry I climbed into your house, sir, please don't hurt me..."

"Stop it, Q, Papi is not going to hurt you but at this rate, you'll just fall off the bed and hurt yourself!" Santana snapped. She looked up to see her father slowly moving backwards, away from the bed, his face set firmly in an impassive mask, although she could also see the hurt in his kind eyes. Her gentle father wouldn't hurt a fly - he was a doctor, he relieved pain, not caused it - and she knew it pained him to see Quinn so frightened of him.

Lowering her voice, she spoke in a gentler voice she hadn't known she was capable of towards anyone besides Brittany. "Papi won't hurt you, he won't even touch you without your permission, he just wants to find out what hurts and help you. I'll stay here with you, okay? Please, Q, please let us help you."

Holding Quinn firmly, she half carried the girl and lay her back on the bed as gently as she could. "I'm sorry," she whispered, when Quinn whimpered in pain and rolled over to her side.

Dr Lopez's experienced eye quickly told him that she had some injuries on her back or bottom, injuries that were probably painful but not critical, if she had somehow managed to climb the walls of his house into the second storey where Santana's bedroom was. The room window was open and the girl had looked like she was trying to make her way back to it, it didn't take much reasoning skills to figure out that the girl had probably entered his house through the window.

The mystery of the source of the girl solved, he turned his focus back to more medical issues. Considering the confession he had overheard just prior to entering the room, it was likely her rape injuries that were most critical at this point in time. However, she was clearly scared out of her wits, and he wasn't going to force such an examination while the girl still didn't trust him.

Santana was still comforting the girl and helping her adjust her position, so he took the opportunity to send out a quick text message to his Emergency Department colleague at the hospital.

_"Send an ambulance to my house, stat. Female teenage rape victim, appears conscious and stable."_

Incoming help ensured, he turned back to the disheveled girl still clinging onto his daughter.

"May I examine you?" he asked respectfully, keeping a distance of at least five feet between himself and the sobbing girl. "Santana may stay if you want her to, but I need to check you out, make sure you're alright."

"If I let you, you can't call my parents."

"I won't, I give you my word," he promised.

_When I've made sure you're okay, and have collected the evidence I need, it won't be me your parents are going to get a visit from. It'll be the police_, he thought grimly.

Quinn looked from Santana to him, for the first time noticing that he had backed away from her. She felt grateful for his consideration, and nodded. As she'd thought, he was kind and considerate. He moved closer to the bed very slowly, making sure to stay in her line of sight. Her body instinctively tensed in fear as he drew nearer, but she at least she managed to hold back any verbal protests. She had made enough of a fool of herself in front of Santana and her father.

Dr Lopez moved forward slowly and smoothly, making sure to make no sudden, abrupt movements. When he was two feet away, within an arm's reach, he knelt down by the bed to make himself appear as non-threatening as possible.

"I heard what you told Santana, about what your father did," he began carefully. "How bad is the pain?"

"It's… I…" the girl looked helplessly at Santana and whispered 'Sorry' before she turned back to the doctor. "I'm pregnant," she confessed. "It doesn't hurt that bad, but I'm worried about the baby, please…"

The girl faced him for the first time, looking straight into his eyes, and despite her disheveled state, it suddenly dawned on him who she was. She wasn't just any girl, she was Quinn Fabray, the blonde captain of his daughter's cheerleading team, whom he knew was also one of Santana's best friends. He seldom spoke to her, but she frequently had sleepovers at his house with the other taller blonde, Brittany Pierce, also another cheerleader.

Oh my God. He froze there on his knees, two feet away from Quinn, recalling the girls' last sleepover.

_"I'm fine, mi hija," he reassured, capturing her hand and bringing it to his heart. "It's just… she's your age, a year younger than you, actually. And I thought about you the entire day and what if it had happened to you instead. I couldn't bear it."_

_"Oh. A freshman? Does she go to McKinley too?"_

_"I didn't ask. But I wish she was in your year, I wish you knew her, that you girls were friends and you had brought her home before. She hid her pain so, so well but a trained eye would have spotted the tell-tale signs right away and she could have gotten the help she needed much sooner. It was horrible."_

He had come home and shared with his daughter about how the pitiful situation of his patient, Rachel, had broken his heart, ruing the fact that Rachel wasn't Santana's friend and Santana had never brought her home, that he had never had the chance to spot the tell tale signs of long-term child abuse and gotten her the help she needed before it had gone so far. When all the while, just behind his daughter, sitting on _his_ couch, eating popcorn in _his_ living room, was another girl who was being sexually abused. And based on the obvious pain in her back, probably physically abused too.

A girl he had met not just that one time, but dozens of times over the past few years. He had never met her parents but she had always looked like a normal enough girl, quiet but confident. Never once had the possibility that she could be a victim of child abuse ever crossed his mind.

Quinn had only confessed to one occasion of rape, but he knew that for teenage victims of sexual abuse, the abuse usually started much earlier. Unless she had cleaned herself up before coming here, which would complicate the rape kit he would have to collect later, the lack of overt bleeding between her legs indicated to him that this wasn't the first time he had raped her.

He raised his hands in front of him, keeping them where she could see them, and moved them towards her body, determined to push his useless thoughts away and focus on helping her first. When she trusted him more, he would move on to her more private areas, or maybe, hopefully, a female paramedic would have arrived by then to carry out the unpleasant portion of the examination. Carrying it out on the young Rachel Berry that night had been bad enough, even if the result had thankfully turned out negative. The pelvic examination on this girl whom he actually knew, was going to be much worse, and was also probably going to reveal injuries that required treatment, as well as positive results that required legal documentation.

Pushing away those dark memories, he begged his ill-discipline mind to please focus on the medicine. He ran the information he had gathered through his mind, assessing the severity of her injuries and prioritizing the different treatments she would need, when her words started to sink in and his blood ran cold, finally robbing him of the tenuous control he was holding onto to maintain his professionalism. He froze, unable to move his hands that extra inch required for him to touch her.

'My father raped me'… 'I'm pregnant…' Oh God, was this child somehow impregnated by her own father? He had thought he had seen the worst of child abuse that night with Rachel but this monstrosity brought the term 'child abuse' to a whole new level of perversity. What father would do this to his daughter?

There were many other possibilities of what could have happened, but his pessimistic mind held onto the worst case scenario, unable to shake it away.

Quinn turned away in shame when she saw the clear disgust in the eyes of Santana's father. It had happened after she told him she was pregnant, now he probably thought she was a slut. She was so disgusting that even this man, a professional doctor and the father of her friend, didn't even want to touch her. He probably didn't want her anywhere near his daughter either.

"I'm sorry, I'm fine, there's no need to examine me," she mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes again. Tears pricked in the corner of her eye, threatening to fall again, and she blinked them back furiously. "Please let me go, I won't disturb you or Santana again. Please just let me go, and if you don't mind, please don't tell my parents I was here."

**A/N. Hope you enjoyed that. I skipped the entire part between Quinn alone in her bedroom and her appearing at Santana's window but I think you can roughly figure out what happened, but if you can't, more will be revealed in due time. At least you know she's kinda safe now, so hopefully it's not as scary. **

**If any of you is familiar with the forensic / legal procedures in the USA, for example, do they arrest the rapist first or wait until the evidence has been collected and verified in situations such as this, please drop me a review or PM to advise me! I hope to make this as realistic as possible, but I'm only knowledgeable about the medical part of such situations. **


	27. Examinations

bueller - Thanks. Yea, I'm glad Quinn is finally getting help too. It was frustrating writing her for so many chapters, giving her so many opportunities to tell someone, but she never did.

Twi-Ranger - Thanks. Hope you continue to enjoy it (:

TeirAnazazi - I'm sorry, the community that this story was added to (I have no idea why) may give you the wrong impression, but Quinn and Rachel won't be a romantic issue at any point in this story. Actually, there will be little to no romance in this fic. I personally think that any romance will complicate things for either girls at this point in time. They both need to recover, heal and become 'whole' again before they contemplate getting into a relationship with anyone, male or female. They're still young, they need to learn what family love means first, there'll be time for romantic 'true love' later in life.  
[By the way, I do realise that my views are partly due to my country of origin and religion, which may differ greatly from yours or most Americans'. Please feel free to raise your objections, and if you wish to write your own Faberry ending to my fic, just let me know.]

NZgleek91 - Yea, I loved writing about Santana and her dad. They'll definitely do their best to help her and keep her safe.

JWilson18 - Thanks!

gogolax - Thanks for explaining the distinction between arrest and charge (:

CarmellaD'Winter - Ooh, you're entering uni? I have a friend who is going to UK to study uni too, and she has started university already, so I assume you have by now too? She was having her orientation at the time of your review. Hope you enjoy your time at uni (: I like writing Dr Lopez and Santana. They didn't exactly save her since she was the one who escaped on her own, but they gave her someone/somewhere to run to. They're definitely going to play a big role in helping her. I like that Dr Lopez is the only one who knows about both Quinn and Rachel, and possibly Santana could figure it out in due time. But the two girls Quinn and Rachel have no idea how similar they both are. Quinn's escape, together with other events of the missing hour, will be described in due time, either in a flashback or her thoughts. Quinn's escape is definitely something I want to write about eventually, seeing as it's a very safe topic to write, much safer than what occurred in the bedroom prior to her escape.

ricetxpeaches - My characters will change over time, as is expected after a drastic change in environment but I'll try my best to make the change gradual and explain the reasons for these changes. I like to explain everything, haha. Thanks for your help with the legal information (:

Shana - He's the only doctor I've written in so far, it was bound to happen. I was debating between this and Quinn showing up unannounced at his ER, which would have been an even more complicated situation, even though potentially more interesting. But I decided that 1) Quinn's first instinct wouldn't be to go to the hospital, and 2) I wanted Santana involved. I enjoyed writing Santana's transition from a very normal and pleasant activity like brushing your hair before going to bed (and Naya does have beautiful hair) to the shocking and awful act of trying to rescue her battered and friend from her window, and discovering she had just gotten raped by her father. Quinn has a good reason to be jealous of Santana.  
Hmm, do you hate 'feeling' or 'filling' those kinds of blanks? Because the two are very different, I think. The former implies you hate not knowing what happened, and the latter that you hate imagining what happened. I hope you're imagining, because that was my intention, for my readers' minds to run wild and have a feel of what Santana and Dr Lopez are thinking now, before the truth is slowly revealed. As for what you do know about Quinn's escape, yeah it was exhausting for her. Have you ever experienced a really intense adrenaline rush? You feel manic and can do crazy things at insane speeds, and then when the rush is gone and you're in a safe place again, all your energy is completely spent. And for Quinn, it's doubly worse because her high-adrenaline activity was a pretty emotionally and physically tiring activity in itself.  
Last topic: Evidence. I don't watch Law & Order SVU and I haven't rotated through my O&G or Forensic Pathology postings yet, but even as a lowly medical student, I know that there is sufficient medical evidence here to nail Russell. It's more the procedure of what happens next after this chapter that I was asking about and researching into. I guess if I watched American crime shows I would know some of that too, although I doubt TV is really accurate since even as a medical student I can spot way too many errors in Grey's Anatomy and House. But I don't watch any American crime shows. I really love my darling readers because they're always so forthcoming about sharing h information with me.

Dreamsilver - Haha, I don't watch Korean dramas but I get what you mean. I'm surprised more people aren't annoyed at Rachel's repetitive thoughts. It's almost like an obsession. But just like I wrote how some abused kids like Quinn react with anger and bullying, which can turn some well-meaning people off, other abused kids like Rachel who've been brainwashed too long can be pretty stubborn and annoying, which is another thing psychiatrists, therapists and foster parents may have to deal with too. Anyway, canon Rachel does have a stubborn personality to start with, and I didn't want to change that, perhaps just exaggerate it a little.

Guest - I don't think I'll tell Russell's actual story, because it's a little too disturbing, writing his scenes with Quinn has already been quite enough for me. Besides, I think I've told most of what happened to him, albeit very briefly. A few more details might come out later, but as for the actual story like in a one-off about his childhood or a long Russell scene, I don't think I can do it, unless I get into a really dark mood. Do you want to? :P I can supply you with his entire story if you wish. As for Russell sleeping around and giving Quinn an STD, I don't want to spoil anything for you, but I did drop a few hints in Judy's (chapter 24) and Quinn's (chapter 13) scenes that he hasn't really been sleeping around in the past year, focusing his attention mainly on Quinn. Then again, he travels a lot, so who knows?  
The cycle of abuse is something I obviously wanted to write about when I wrote Quinn's and Russell's stories the way I did. Whether or not it will end with Quinn hasn't really been determined yet. If her parents go to prison, she 'graduates' from the foster system at 18 and waitresses to earn minimum wage to support her kid as a single mom, I'd wager that soon she's going to get pretty angry and resentful at the loss of her bright and beautiful future and knowing her mean side, she might very well take it out on her kid, however much she loves him/her. So this is not really the end point. I don't think there even is an end point because the risk of the cycle continuing will always be there, but it's up to herself, her friends, her foster parents and the system to help her deviate from this trajectory and break free from this cycle. Naturally, in my story, she's going to break free, otherwise Quinn as an abusive mom would be pretty disturbing to write. I love her too much to do that to her.

Anon - She had her reasons, which will be revealed in due time. Something did change to trigger Quinn's escape but it might not be what you expect. As for whether or not she wanted to tell, I'm not sure. I kind of think that if she only wanted a place to stay the night, she would have just gone to the park or something. I think she wanted to tell Santana, but not her father. We'll find out why later.

Rini - Nice catch! No one mentioned it, so I thought I was the only one thinking about it. I actually didn't plan it that way, but when I read what I had written while editting, I realized exactly the same thing as Dr Lopez, about having seen Quinn so many times but never suspecting anything, talking about Rachel while Quinn was still unsaved and sitting in his house. And I had the same reaction we him - my blood ran cold. It is humbling and sobering that after all his rants about how no one saw the signs that Rachel was broadcasting, and despite all his knowledge and experience, he also missed another child's signs of abuse as well. That sense of failure must have been overwhelming. And for a doctor, professional failure often leads to the suffering of another, and it's a terrible feeling, to know you let someone down and they had had to suffer because of your own incompetence. (That's why medical students and doctors study/work so hard.)  
As for what happened to Quinn herself, I originally intended to put all of Quinn's Santana's house and A&E experience (not a spoiler because you did see this coming, right?) into one chapter, but you know me, I write far too slowly, so on eventful days/nights such as this, a few hours can drag on to cover many many chapters. But I also realized keeping my readers in suspense is kind of fun, haha. Anyway, this way, you can tell me what you want to know about the missing hour and I'll see if I can find a way to insert it in later. The imagination is a powerful tool that needs to be exercised more often in our protocol-driven machinised society, so imagine away (:  
And I'm glad you understood what I meant about the flashbacks. :D

olacindy - Yay, I love it when silent readers finally speak up! I doubt any person would allow Quinn to leave in her current state, haha, but thanks for your concern. She'll definitely be getting help and support, and not left high and dry.

shiniso - Haha, when someone says something as shocking as she hopes that Quinn's father beats her badly enough that she miscarries, you tend to remember, lol. But if it's your genuine thought, why not? I like honesty (: "loved it" reviews are so safe and boring (not that I don't appreciate all the reviews I get, of course), I like it when reviews make me stop to think twice about my story and its impact on my readers. Actually, I'm curious, what did you think was going to happen when I started the chapter with Santana? The only thing I can think of that's scary is Dr Lopez being abusive himself, which would be quite an outrageous storyline. The way I've characterized him, and his outrage at Rachel's situation, he might be short tempered, but he wouldn't hurt anyone deliberately, least of all his children whom he loves very very much. As for Quinn's placement, she will have many problems with whoever she lives with. Have fun guessing. I love it when my readers speculate about what happens next. Makes me realize how much all of you care about my characters too :D

Renata - Haha, Rachel would disapprove! She would totally berate you for your "shocking lack of interest in or commitment to [your] academic development", haha. Just kidding :P. I'm thoroughly flattered by your generous compliment. Quinn's baby has been the subject of much speculation, debate and criticism, ever since Quinn first packed a packet of tampons into her duffle bag for the sleepover. It's highly controversial, and although I know what the outcome is going to be, how I reach there is something I hope I'll be able to figure out by the time I get around to it. Hope you won't be disappointed (: As for the rest of your assessment of Rachel and Quinn, it's very accurate, especially the dichotomy between the two girls. In fact, sometime during the first few chapters of this story, I actually sat down and made a table contrasting between the two girls, haha. One correction, though: I think Rachel has had many more better moments in her house than Quinn. Quinn hates her house, which she doesn't even deign to call 'home', and with good reason because it's a cold and unfeeling building devoid of love. Whereas Rachel, because her mind has been sso warped, actually considers simple things like her fathers' praises at her practices and sharing dinner together to be good moments that she treasures up in her heart to help strengthen her conviction of her fathers' love for her. Having friends and sleeping over frequently at Santana's house means Quinn knows how much better a home is supposed to be, whereas lonely, friendless and unpopular Rachel doesn't know any better.  
Good job remembering that Rachel is scheduled to be at the hospital tomorrow, the same hospital where Quinn is probably going to get hospitalized in. Your ideas are great, but they aren't going to happen, because I want to enjoy Quinn and Rachel's ignorance of each other's family situation for a little while more. But all will be revealed in due time (:  
By the way, don't worry about English mistakes, the way to improve proficiency any language is always to practise, practise, practise, and I admire your bravery in publishing comments in a language that is not your first language, something I would lack the courage to do, myself. (I assume your first language is Portugese?)  
P/S. Sorry about the late update! I sensed your impatience in your 2nd review, haha.

JAMES-EAI - Thank you! Yay, I'm glad you're happy. Thanks for following my story for do long, you've been faithfully reviewing it since Chapter 2, I'm sure you must be very relieved that Quinn is _finally_ safe :D

GreenLemons - I was aiming to surprise my readers, haha, that's why I couldn't wait to publish this part first. I was hoping that it would shock you at least as much as it shocked Santana when Quinn's face appeared in her window, haha. On a more serious note, I think Quinn has a lot of pride. That's part of the reason why she doesn't tell anyone about her father, because she thinks the public knowledge of such shameful deeds would be too much for her to handle. She has already assumed that everyone is going to be disgusted by her, that's why she saw what she expected to see in Dr Lopez's face. You're right, Quinn has many issues as well, just different ones from Rachel. It'll be an interesting journey helping the two of them work through all these issues and yup, overcoming them (:

Guest - Thanks! I agree, I don't think either Santana or her father would let Quinn run away without getting some help first.

allie1207 - Eventually, Rachel and Quinn's stories will Be made known to each other and to Santana, yes, but it'll be a little while longer...

Emy - Good job noticing that the three girls will probably be in the hospital at the same time. It would be quite some hospital drama worthy of Grey's Anatomy if all their secrets get revealed out tomorrow, but most secrets are going to be kept for a little while longer, because I'm enjoying their current ignorance for now. You're right, though, eventually they will all find out and become friends. And thanks for saying this is your favourite story on this site now! There are many fantastic stories here so I feel very honored, thank you!

Jenn – You're not the only one, most of my readers found it very hard to read about the situations Quinn goes through while she was still "trapped" at home. That's one of the reasons why I skipped ahead to her rescue and will use flashbacks and another means to let you know what happened in the hour between the two chapters. :D Quinn is not going to go back, don't worry about that (:

Chapter 25. Examinations

Dr Anthony Lopez surveyed the familiar Emergency Room with a scowl. It was just his luck. On the one day he came to the Emergency Room bringing in a patient instead of working as a doctor, the ER was a flurry of activity, quite unlike the quiet, boring nights he had gotten used to.

"Dr Joy!" He called out to the on-call Attending Emergency Physician. "What's going on?"

"Anthony! MVC, 2 injured passengers, 1 severely injured driver. ETA 5 minutes. I need to prepare the resuscitation rooms. I assume you just brought your patient in?"

"Yes."

"I know you're not on duty tonight but do you mind assessing her on your own? I completely understand if you don't want to, or can't do it, but it'll probably take me a couple of hours to clear these P1 patients, before I can see to her. Or if you can't do it but don't mind supervising, you could watch one of my residents."

"Sure, I can perform the initial assessment first but please send a resident to assist me. Preferably a female."

"Certainly."

"Is it okay if I leave the pelvic examination to you? I'm not sure how good your resident is and I'm not comfortable doing it myself, seeing as I'm a male and I know her personally. Besides, it's also been a while since I've done one."

"I understand. Just make sure she's stable, finish the rest of her work-up, and contact the police and relevant authorities. I'll be there as soon as I can."

With that, Dr Joy rushed away to the resuscitation room, and Dr Lopez sighed. Despite his confident words, he had been sorely tempted to trade Quinn for Dr Joy's three trauma patients instead.

He was going to have a long night ahead of him, he predicted with yet another sigh.

...

"Come on, Q."

Quinn ignored her.

"Come on, don't be like this. I had to, okay?"

Quinn spun around angrily. "Had to? You didn't have to do _anything_! If I wanted to go to the hospital or the police, I would have gone there myself, not ran to your house and climbed up to your bedroom in the middle of the night and asked to spend the night there! You didn't _have_ to do anything besides let me in, I would have left the next morning on my own."

"It wasn't me who called the hospital or the police, it was my father," Santana protested, trying to defend herself.

"Well, he's a doctor, what did you expect he was going to do? I told you not to tell him, but you went and called for him anyway. And then you stopped me from leaving!"

"What did you expect _me_ to do? You looked like hell frozen over, I couldn't very well let you run off in the middle of the night! Besides, you were so damn exhausted, you almost freaking collapsed and probably would have collapsed anyway if I hadn't carried you to my bed. Even if I hadn't stopped you, you probably wouldn't even have made it down safely. Do you think I want you to fall to your death in my backyard?"

Quinn paused to absorb Santana's words. She resented the implication that she had been weak enough to require Santana's "help" but her words did hold some truth. However, she was loath to confess to her weakness and admit that Santana was right. She had already shown enough weakness tonight, given Santana sufficient ammunition to mock her with for the rest of her life.

"You could at least have had the decency to _ask_ me first before you went and called your dad," she finally said, glaring at Santana with as much anger as she could garner.

"Whatever. I was scared, okay?"

Quinn's eyes widened, a little taken aback at Santana's confession. _Santana_ had been scared? She was never scared.

Santana caught Quinn's look of disbelief and rolled her eyes. "Yea, whatever, you freaked the hell out of me, appearing in my room window looking like that. I didn't know what to do, and instinctively called for Papi's help. But you're right, I should have asked you first."

Quinn jerked her head in some semblance of a nod. She supposed she kind of understood. Her sudden appearance at Santana's home must have given her quite a shock, Santana with her perfect parents and perfect family. However, she was still angry. Santana might have had her reasons, but it was she, Quinn, who was going to have to suffer the consequences of this hospital visit and police report.

Santana sighed with relief, seeing that Quinn finally looked like she was cooling down somewhat. She was definitely not someone you wanted angry with you, even if she was currently a hospitalized patient and your father was her doctor. "I'm sorry."

Quinn raised an eyebrow and managed a weak half-smirk.

"Whatever, Q, don't tell anyone I said that," Santana replied, rolling her eyes, although secretly, she was glad to see traces of the Quinn she was familiar with. Bitch Quinn was much more normal to her than Crying Quinn.

Besides, even when angry at her, the Quinn of a few minutes ago had lacked her normal iciness. She was far too emotional, almost terrified, which was highly unusual for the girl who embodied the term HBIC. Although really, who could blame her?

Her father had _raped_ her? Santana turned the idea over in her head. It was hard to wrap her mind around such a perverse idea. She tried to think of her own father, who in her memory, had always been firm but kind. Even when he scolded her, which was rare, he had never raised a hand to her. To think of her own father in such a way was too horrifying for her to even try to imagine.

She turned her thoughts to what she knew about Quinn's father instead. Come to think of it, she had never met Mr Fabray before. All she knew about him was that he was a successful businessman and a devout Christian, always forcing Quinn to leave their Unholy Trinity sleepovers early to go to church.

Devout Christian, my ass.

She had always found it amusing to ponder what Mr Fabray would have thought of the girls' nickname for themselves. Now, however, she found herself wanting to meet him for very different reasons. She would love to get her hands on him now, to unleash all her pent-up fury and beat him into a pulp for doing this to her friend. He deserved worse than a beating, he deserved to be _castrated_. No one messes with a member of the Unholy Trinity and gets away with it, she thought fiercely.

A knock came on the room door and Dr Lopez walked in, followed by a younger female doctor and Nurse Jolene, the female nurse that had been guarding the door, under orders from Dr Lopez to ensure that Quinn did not run away. She was carrying a hospital gown, the flimsy kind that opened at the back.

"I'm not wearing that," Quinn informed her.

"But..."

"It's fine," Dr Lopez informed her. I can perform the examination with Quinn wearing her current clothes. We'll see about the hospital gown again later."

"I'm not letting you examine me either," Quinn turned to inform him.

"This is Dr Shanti, an Emergency Medicine resident. If you're uncomfortable with me, would you rather she carry out the examination?"

"No, I don't want anyone to examine me. I don't want to _be_ in this hospital. Why can't you just pretend you didn't see me and let me go!"

"Because you need help. Now, I can wait outside, or stay to supervise, whichever you prefer. Santana can stay to accompany you or leave to give you privacy as well, the choice is yours. But you are injured and you need an examination to assess the severity of your injuries before any doctor would be willing to discharge you."

"No! If the choice is mine, I choose not to be examined. I'm _fine_. Just check on my baby and let me go."

"You need a physical examination. You're clearly injured, and we need to find out where and how badly, in order to treat you adequately. We can leave the pelvic examination till later, but we'll need to get to it eventually."

Dr Shanti nodded in agreement, although inside, her thoughts and emotions were in a state of turmoil. She was only a 2nd year resident, and this was the first rape victim she had seen. Dr Lopez hadn't told her who the culprit was, but she got the feeling from his words that he already knew. It didn't matter who it was anyway, not to her as a doctor. What mattered was getting the patient the _medical_ help she needed.

That's right, she reminded herself. Focus on the medicine.

"No!" Quinn insisted stubbornly.

"Okay, we need to take a history, do a physical examination and then run some tests. I thought we should start with the examination because you look like you're in a fair amount of pain, and I didn't want you to have to suffer any longer than you have to. Alternatively, I could give you a painkiller and we could start with the history, but I thought answering all the necessary questions would be painful for you, and might want to wait until you're calmer before I start on that. What do you think?"

Quinn hesitated. "You can run your tests if you want," she decided. It was the easiest of the three. "Please just make sure my baby is okay."

Dr Lopez nodded. It wasn't exactly one of the options he had offered her, and it wasn't traditionally acceptable to run tests without first getting a comprehensive history and a thorough physicial examination, but he understood where Quinn was coming from. His resident busied herself preparing the equipment she needed to draw her blood and insert an IV plug, and he turned back to Quinn.

"Do you want a painkiller first?" He noticed Quinn open her mouth and he spoke first. "Before you ask, it's safe for use in pregnancy."

Quinn nodded.

Dr Lopez smiled. _Finally_ something he could do for her. He prepared the medication. "Do you have any drug allergies? Are you on any medications?"

Quinn shook her head to both questions, still silent.

"Okay. This is going to sting a little."

Quinn felt the sleeve of her blouse being lifted up, the cool swipe of an alcohol swab, then a sharp pinch. It was over in a second.

"It'll take a few minutes to take effect."

Quinn nodded at him. She knew she ought to thank him, but she was still angry, so she didn't say anything. She could see the policemen arriving outside her room, and her heart sank. How was she going to get out of this mess?

Dr Lopez moved away, and Dr Shanti appeared beside her. "I'm going to insert your IV plug now, and then take some blood, okay? It might hurt a little."

A rubber tourniquet was tied around her bicep and Quinn panicked for a moment. She moved her arm away quickly, before the knot was tied, and the tourniquet fell harmlessly on the bed.

"I'm sorry, this is just a tourniquet. It'll just block blood flow back to your heart for a while, so that your veins become bigger and easier for me to find. I'll remove it once I've obtained the blood I need."

Quinn nodded, slightly embarrassed at her reaction. She refused to look at Santana or Dr Lopez. The constriction around her arm had reminded her of the wrist restraints, but the realization that she could still move her arm had brought her some relief of her anxiety.

Quinn kept a close watch on the doctor's actions this time. After tying the tourniquet - around her arm only, and not to the bed or anything else -, Dr Shanti tapped the skin around her forearm and dorsum, finally locating a vein she preferred. Who knew what she was looking for, they all looked the same to her.

She swabbed the area a few times with the cooling alcohol, before taking out a long needle in a plastic tube. The tip of the needle barely stuck out of the end of the tube.

Dr Shanti noticed the patient was watching her every move and decided to explain what she was doing. "I'm going to put this plug in, and then take out the needle so that the tube remains inside. I'll take a few tubes of blood, and then cap it with a special stopper, so that any other fluids and medications you need can be given to you through this tube and you don't have to be poked by a needle again. Is that okay?"

She waited until Quinn nodded, before returning to her task. "Try to relax your arm, it'll make it hurt less," she commented as she steadied Quinn's forearm with one hand and angled the tube/needle with the other.

"How the hell am I supposed to relax when you tell me you're going to stick a tube and a needle inside my arm?" Quinn mumbled. Her arm barely relaxed a fraction, and then tensed again, when she felt the needle go in. It stopped halfway and Dr Shanti pulled it out partially, reminding her again to relax before adjusting the angle and moving it in once more, fully this time.

"Ow!" She shouted at the doctor. "That did not just hurt 'a little', that was freaking painful! What are you, some noob intern? I'm not a guinea pig for you to practice on!"

Dr Shanti startled. That had been quite a smooth and easy insertion, despite the pressure of performing it under the patient's close scrutiny. She looked back at Dr Lopez who gave her a nod and waved her on to proceed with her task. Reassured that she hadn't done anything wrong, the resident finished taking the blood, taping down the IV plug and tidying up.

"I'm sorry," she apologized when it was finished. Quinn just glared at her and did not reply.

"What next, Quinn?" Dr Lopez asked. "History first, or the physical examination?"

Quinn glanced at the window, then back at Dr Lopez. "Exam first," she decided. She needed more time to figure out her story.

...

Quinn refused to meet Dr Lopez's eyes. She had seen the pity in those dark brown eyes when he saw it, she didn't need to see it again. He knew now, and soon the police, the other doctors, they would all know too. At least Santana hadn't seen it. She had stayed seated beside Quinn at the head of the bed, and had respected her wishes for her to stay there and not see the carnage her father had visited on her body.

Santana held onto Quinn's hand. Quinn was crying again, and she had no idea how to comfort her. It was easier with Brittany, she was easily cheered up with a silly duck joke or some dancing but she didn't know how to comfort Quinn. She had never had to before. And it wasn't like they could start dancing here anyway.

From her position here, she couldn't see any part of Quinn's exposed body, but she could see her father's face, and she could tell it wasn't good. Her father was a consummate professional and an experienced surgeon, he had even taken part in various rescue operations and disaster relief missions like 9/11. He wouldn't look so horrified if it wasn't bad.

He replaced Quinn's undergarments, and covered her bottom with her skirt, indicating that he was done. He knew that if he didn't, Quinn would have done so anyway. True enough, Quinn's hands snapped down immediately, adjusting her clothes even though they were already in place, as though to physically reassure herself that everything was once again properly covered.

Dr Lopez watched with a sigh as he removed her gloves and threw them into the dustbin in the corner. She had been this way for the entire examination. He'd had to coax her for a long time in order to get her to remove her clothing, so he could examine her thoroughly. Finally, they had reached an agreement where Santana would stay with her as a female chaperone so that the presence of the nurse and resident was not required, but Santana was not allowed to look. And during the examination, she wouldn't have to remove all her clothes, just those covering the parts he was examining.

The moment he was done examining that part of the body, she would immediately grab her clothes and hurriedly put them back on. But slowly, she had begun to trust him, and answer some of his questions more confidently without constantly turning to Santana for help. From her answers, he had learnt that most of the injuries she bore were inflicted just a few hours ago from a belt. She refused to tell him why, but that was a question for the police and the social workers, not for him. To him, it didn't matter _why_ the bastard had done it, it only mattered that he had done this and would thus pay dearly for his actions.

More significantly, she had only been willing to talk about the beating, she steadfastly refused to discuss anything to do with the rape. He sighed, this would make the next part so much more difficult.

When Quinn had calmed down somewhat and had laid back down on the bed, satisfied that her clothes were properly arranged, Dr Lopez brought up the next task that needed to be done.

"We'll need to do a pelvic examination next."

"No!" Quinn shouted.

"We have to," Dr Lopez informed her as gently as possible. "You're injured there and need treatment. Besides, we need to do a rape kit and collect evidence. The police need it to bring charges against your father."

"No," Quinn repeated, shaking her head. Tears were running down her cheek again but they were the least of her worries. "Please, you can't..." she sobbed.

"I'm sorry, but we have to do this. It won't take long, and it needs to be done as soon as possible so that any evidence can be preserved properly. I can ask my female colleague to do this. She's far more experienced than me."

Quinn continued to shake her head, sobbing. "You can't..."

"Can't what, Q?" Santana asked, holding her friend's hand.

It seemed to calm her down, at least enough to answer the question. She turned to Santana. "You can't tell the police."

"Like hell we can't," Santana swore, although her voice remained soft. "He needs to go to jail."

"No! He won't stay in jail. He'll get out on bail and then come and kill me."

"We can protect you," Santana insisted. "The police can give you a bodyguard or something, we won't let him get to you."

"It won't matter. He'll fight the charges and win and I'll have to go back to him anyway."

"No way," Dr Lopez informed her. "There is no way he is going to fight off these charges."

"You don't know him. He'll bribe the judge, or declare me psycho or something. You can't win against him, he's too powerful."

"He may _think_ he's powerful but he doesn't have any power in this hospital. I'm very good at my job, Quinn, all of us here are. Let us take care of you and then do the rape kit to collect the evidence we need, the evidence we'll use to put him away forever. That way, you'll never have to fear him again."

...

"Papi, why aren't you doing Quinn's pelvic examination?"

"Just hospital administrative stuff, 'Tana. Dr Joy the on-call doctor is an experienced emergency physician, she can handle it."

"But she asked for you!"

"No, she didn't."

Santana rolled her eyes. "She said that if you don't mind, she wanted you to do it. You saw how she reacted to the other doctor who took her blood. I don't want some strange doctor's hands all over my friend down there!"

He shook her head. "Dr Joy can do it," he insisted.

"You're scared!" she accused her father. "How can you be scared and reject her request when she's the injured one here? She asked for you, you have to do it!"

" 'Tana..."

"Don't you 'Tana' me!" she shouted, pointing her finger at her father, and earning herself stares from the nearby nurses. She lowered her voice, but her tone was steely. "Please, Papi, she's scared enough as it is, and she asked for you... She trusts you, you have to do this."

A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away furiously. "Please, Papi? Please do this for me."

Dr Lopez's heart broke at the pleading tone of his daughter's voice. It wasn't that he couldn't see things from Quinn's point of view - he could, as much as anyone who had not been through such an experience could anyway. Her anxiety and fear during the examination had been obvious, he couldn't have missed it even if he was blind. Although she had decided to choose him to carry out the examination on her, she had still been so terribly distrustful and fearful of him.

And who could blame her? That bastard had done a real number on her. Crimson, swollen, ridged welts streaked across the lower portion of her slim body, concentrated on her bottom and thighs. Ironically, he found himself feeling thankful that they were largely superficial and nowhere near as bad as Rachel Berry's had been, the welts were all fresh, with no scars or old injuries indicating that this was not a frequent and long-term occurrence. He had expected the worse when he had noticed Quinn's discomfort with lying supine on her back, memories of the state Rachel had been in haunting him. When had his world view gotten so screwed up that this level of damage was something he felt he needed to be thankful for?

But the welts hadn't been all of it. Her right ankle was badly sprained. And on her body, a bruise in the shape of a shoe print could clearly be made out on her upper back - he didn't want to imagine how it had gotten there. In addition to all that damage to her back, crimson red scratches were noted on her hips, and more ominously, circumferential abrasions could be seen on both of her wrists. The skin around the cuts was also angry red, swollen and inflamed, which told him that she had to have been tied up quite tightly and struggling against the bonds to have caused such damage to the thin skin there. Again, the thought of a father tying his daughter down to visit such destruction upon her defenseless body sickened him to the core.

Unfortunately, as he had expected, those still weren't the worst of her injuries. When he had removed her skirt and undergarments to check the welts on her bottom, he had glanced towards her perineal region, just to quickly assure himself that it wasn't too bad and he had made the right call in leaving that part of the examination to the last. He had frozen then, probably the first time in twenty years he had frozen during a physical examination. She hadn't just been raped the traditional way, both her orifices were inflamed and raw. The bleeding was minimal, 'just' a few abrasions, not badly enough to cause significant blood loss, but enough to tell him that it had been violent and extremely painful. And that this was definitely not the first time it had happened as well.

He'd never wanted his family to get involved in this part of his hospital life, to know the horrors of what some parents did to their children, but his daughter was inexorably linked to Quinn's medical care, there was no way to avoid this. He knew that and could accept it but he honestly didn't know if he could further perform a pelvic examination on Quinn with his daughter in the same room as them.

He doubted Santana could understand all these but Santana was right too. Those were his own fears, his own monsters to combat. His patient's wishes took priority over his. However traumatizing this examination would be for him, it was going to be a hundred times worse for Quinn. She deserved the right to control this small aspect of it, the right to choose who was going to do this to her. And if having a familiar doctor perform the examination on her would help make it the slightest bit easier, who was he to say 'no' to her, to deny her this barest bit of comfort and control?

"Okay." His shoulders sagged, feeling like he'd aged ten years in one night. "Okay, I'll do it."

**A/N. Just to explain some abbreviations Dr Joy used. **

**MVC: Motor vehicle collision (Actually, in Singapore, we use RTA - Road traffic accident. MVC is an American term, I believe. Not that you really care, I guess, haha.)  
ETA: Estimated time of arrival  
P1: Triage category for an emergency situation**

******I know I could have just used the full terms in the story, but when standby cases are coming into the ER, it feels weird to have an Emergency Physician not be speaking rapidly and in abbreviations.**

******Also, just like how I set Quinn's story aside when Rachel was being rescued, this chapter and the next will focus on telling Quinn's story / experiences. Sorry, Rachel fans!  
**


	28. Secrets

JWilson18 - I can't really say if she's going to stay with Santana now, but it's one of the options. Her eventual placement will be a topic of discussion in the next few chapters.

NZgleek91 – Thank you! Yes, there'll be a Faberry friendship. That has been planned since the beginning of the story, hence the sporadic Faberry interactions and their views on each other, in the first few chapters. Rachel and Quinn are not going to live parallel lives forever (: As for darkness, I think it's going to reduce from now on. Quinn has pretty much hit rock bottom (and survived, phew), and you guys pretty much already know everything that has happened to her, even if you don't know how it happened. So what's left to find out is perhaps what prompted her unexpected escape. And of course, what happens to her from now on, which is well, the rest of the story.

CarmellaD'Winter – It's okay, I'm glad you don't understand some parts. That's a really good thing, because that means the details are vague enough, such that I don't introduce new and scary ideas into innocent young minds who stumble into my story. As for Dr Lopez, he's a consummate professional but still a father and this is very hard for him to deal with it. Treating Quinn is so much harder than treating Rachel, because his daughter is close to her, he knows her, and in a sense, he feels like he's failed her. Yup. Don't worry about rambling, I tend to do that a lot myself, which makes Rachel's rants so fun for me to write, and I love rambling reviews, because they give me insight into what my reviewers are really thinking and also because your enthusiasm energizes me :D

Em - Yup, it has always been my intention that they are going to be friends. Thank you for continuing on with reading my story, despite your disappointment with knowing there won't be Faberry romance. I'm glad you don't regret it :) Quinn will eventually find out about Rachel's abuse and vice versa but I don't want to give away how, just yet :P Santana will eventually find out as well, so you'll get to see both their reactions in due time.

shiniso - I completely understand, don't worry about it. But I shall spare you the embarsssment, and stop repeating what you said, haha, especially since I know some readers actually read all my review replies. Anyway, I'm glad you didn't think Dr Lopez is abusive. It's a very strange thought and one I do not enjoy keeping in my head, haha, because it messes with my mental image of this man I've pretty much created. He has his flaws but essentially he's a good man, and alos the only good father in the story thus far. I feel really sorry for him. I've had to perform unpleasant examinations on patients before (not _this_ unpleasant, though) and doctors often ask family and friends to leave the room or at least, stand outside the curtains, because it is very awkward and uncomfortable. To have that friend-of-the-patient watching you be your own daughter must be awful and totally messing up your professional barrier. You know how people sometimes tell their doctor friends/family "I don't know how you can do that and not puke/cry/faint"? A doctor's professional barrier is one of our most crucial defense mechanisms in such situations. Losing that is traumatizing.

LindsayGlitters - Thank you! Before this, I actually haven't written fiction in the past 10 years, but I decided against telling my readers that in my summary, because I wanted to have higher expectations to try and meet (yep, I'm rather perfectionistic, which is where I get a lot of my inspiration to write Rachel from). Thank you for liking my writing. I do love Rachel/Shelby. I hated that Shelby was so hurtful in the show. Even if the Berry men are fantastic parents in the show (maybe a little too permissive/pampering), a girl needs her mom.

Guest - Yea, ironic, isn't it, that she only decides to escape when she's restrained? But you guessed right, something happened that tipped her over the edge and prompted her to flee. I'm very happy to see you have such faith in the Lopezes, and you're right, they wouldn't let her return to her family. I enjoyed writing caring Santana, I think despite her exterior bitchiness and competitiveness with Quinn, deep down she really cares for her. Yup, Maribel does know about Quinn but she's at home with 12-year-old Santino now. I don't think she could have stayed awake through the arrival of Quinn, Santana yelling for her dad, an ambulance arriving at her house and her husband and daughter leaving it. She'll make her appearance soon as well.

Comegetit - Neither of the girls are getting killed, don't worry. And I like your attitude, because Faberry fans will have many more scenes of Rachel/Quinn friendship to look forward to that will hopefully satisfy your need for Faberriness and keep you reading (:

beaner008 - Thanks! Yea, I'm still considering between quite a few options of ways in which Dr Lopez and Santana can realize each other's connection to Rachel. There are quite a number of secrets going around, and it'll be fun to see how people react to their discoveries, and how well they keep each others' secrets.

olacindy - Heyhey! Glad you reviewed again, 'silent reader'! Whatever Quinn says about herself, I think she is a girl with a lot of pride. Even if she didn't want to, she can't help fighting those who want to help her. To her, accepting help is a sign of weakness, and weakness doesn't sit well with a Fabray, which I think, is a major part of why she hadn't sought help before this. But slowly, she will recognise that they don't think she is weak, and just want to help her, and gradually, she'll lower her defenses and accept others' help (:

Rini - I can totally empathize. Now that I've gotten Quinn to the hospital, it's a huge temptation for me to simply move on and not write about what happened in the 'missing hour', haha. Don't worry, I'll make sure I continue revealing more of what happened, so you don't have to use your imagination so much. Nothing graphic, though. I like that you mentioned Dr Shanti (interesting fact: She was actually nameless until a friend of mine who also reads this fic asked for her name to be included :P). I wanted to contrast Rachel's blood taking experience with Quinn's, and how sometimes, hospital staff, especially those in the ER, just have to accept a certain amount of 'abuse' from patients. The important thing is to try and put yourself in the patients' shoes, and cut them a break on account of the trauma they're going / have gone through. I definitely agree with you that Dr Lopez's situation is significantly more difficult, and I'm glad you and many of my readers can see that and feel for him.

BellaDora Soulmates - You have your answer, she's now saved! Or rather, she's now _safe_, since unlike Rachel, she escaped on her own and didn't require much saving.

Shana - Haha, it's okay. I'm glad you're imagining what happened, I think it's hard not to. I'm also glad because it means the characters are becoming real to you and you're invested in what happens/ has happened to them :D That said, I hope you don't lose too much sleep over my fic, I would hate to be the cause of anyone's insomnia! You'll find out more of what happened in due time, but the specifics of what was done to her has more of less been said or hinted at... You can PM me if you're losing too much sleep and want some answers! XD

JAMES-EAI - Thanks! Your enthusiasm towards my story always makes my day too (:

Renata - Thanks for noticing that, that's one of the things I'm trying to bring out and contrast, that Quinn and Rachel, while both abused and both very strong and resilient characters who have both undergone very traumatic childhoods, they also have very different personalities, different attitudes towards their abusive parents, and suffered different kinds of abuse, which makes them react very differently when offered help. I also think it's interesting that Quinn has friends but no mom, whereas Rachel has a great mom but no friends. Right now, even if Lima is a small town, Rachel and her fathers are forbidden from meeting each other while the court proceedings are underway. However, they will be meeting again before the court proceedings, with some interesting occurrences. I think however much Rachel resists it, her time with Shelby will slowly change her and when she meets her fathers again, she won't exactly be the same girl whom Shelby picked up from CPS that fateful Thursday. Most of Shelby's friends are in New York since she's lived there for the past 15 years, but we'll eventually meet her family, yes. By the way, your English isn't that bad, actually, don't worry about it. Thanks for enjoying my writing so much (:

SA03 - Quinn won't end up with any strangers or in a group home, I agree with you that those options would be terrible for her. As for Russell, I think he should be thanking his lucky stars that he'll only have to deal with the police and not with Santana, lol. Castration, lol.

GreenLemons - I think Quinn wants to be helped and appreciates it a lot but her pride won't let her show weakness, and if she were to accept help without putting up a fight, it would mean her recognizing that she needs help. I'm certainly not envying Santana and her dad, but Dr Lopez is right, what Quinn is going through is so much worse. The pelvic exam isn't going to be pretty. You don't have to be a fly in that room, I'll be that fly and report back to you guys what happens. (Actually, I do understand what you mean and am being purposefully concrete here :P)

pcall006 – Thank you! You're right, I write Rachel much more naturally than I write Quinn. Although they are both victims of horrible child abuse, writing their stories is very different, because not only did they undergo different types of abuse, they are also very different people. It doesn't help that I identify with Rachel a lot more than I do with Quinn. But it's fun writing them both, and I'm always looking for ways to improve my writing, so any help you can give me (PM me!) would be much appreciated :D  
Just to explain a little about Quinn's ease of use of the word 'rape'. You're right, most rape victims have great difficulty speaking that word out loud because of the heavy meaning and dark meanings they associate with it, but Quinn is not like most victims. What happened to her was horrible, of course, but unlike most rape victims, this is not the first time it has happened to her, it's been going on for more than a year. Earlier, I showed how she's been thinking the word for some time (e.g. Chapter 9, when she was talking to Mr Schuester), then later, she blurted the word out to her father in Chapter 12, and ever since she found out she's pregnant, I'm pretty sure she's been thinking about little else besides the fact that she's got a "rape baby". So unlike most rape victims, she's had a lot of time to process the meaning behind the word, that's why I decided she would be able to say that word out loud. Also, when she told Santana, her mind wasn't all that stable, and this was the one thing she knew would definitely prevent Santana from calling her parents, whom she had just run away from. Hope that clarifies things (:

Emy – I love Santana and her dad too! I've been focusing on Quinn for awhile now, but Rachel's Saturday appointments will be written in too, in parallel with Quinn's hospital stay. Thank you for your enthusiasm, it's gratifying that you like my fic so much, and I'll try my best not to disappoint you! (:

Jordon5 – Thanks for the support, and for understanding my intentions for writing this story. And thank you too, for enjoying my writing. It's been a long long time since I wrote fiction, and I was afraid people would be critical of my English, but I'm thankful so far everyone seems to be enjoying the story almost as much as I do! As for Quinn's situation, I actually shared the same dilemma about Quinn's baby when I was outlining the story (As a doctor, I can't really, in good conscience, hope for a miscarriage...) but I've since settled it within myself. Hopefully my solution satisfies you and all my readers (:

JamieH - Friends (:

jinglyjess - Thank you! I'm glad you love it :D

Anon – You'll find that doctors and nurses tend to "focus on the medicine" – It's easier that way and it allows us to do our job effectively and efficiently without getting too affected by the tragedies that happen around us around. But you're right, it's so much more than that. I do pity Dr Lopez, for his job and his personal life to meet like that really throws someone off, but I think he's still doing a very good job of looking after Quinn (: As for the baby, it is healthy and alive for now, but again you're right, whether it dies or lives, it's going to hurt Quinn terribly. Now that I've "given" her a baby, there's no easy way out of this for me, but the truth is, this kinds of things happen in real life, especially in situations of recurrent incest/rape like this, and I hope that the eventual outcome I give her baby satisfies you guys (:

Chapter 26. Secrets

"How long has it been since it happened?"

"Wh... What time is it now?"

"12.30 am."

"It was at 9.30 or 10pm, something like that. So that's..."

"About 3 hours, got it." Dr Lopez answered on her behalf. Quinn didn't look like she was capable of any mathematical calculations at this point in time.

"Since then, have you showered, used the restroom, washed your hands, or combed your hair?"

"No."

"Were you wearing these clothes when it happened?"

Quinn shook her head. "I wasn't wearing anything," she stated bluntly. It was clear the long night had taken its toll on her. She was too emotionally drained to feel much more at this point in time.

In a way, it was a good thing, he thought. The emotional detachment and depersonalisation would help her through these unpleasant parts, the rape kit and after that, if Quinn agreed, the police report.

"Okay, I'm going to start now. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have a female doctor conduct this examination? It would be no trouble at all." Santana shot him a glare from where she was seated beside the bed, but he purposefully ignored it, keeping his eyes fixed on Quinn.

Quinn nodded. "Just do it," she mumbled, and lay back down, closing her eyes. Beside her, Santana tightened her grip on Quinn's offered right hand, silently lending her strength. It was a gesture Quinn appreciated, and she clasped Santana's hand firmly as well.

Closing her eyes helped a little, but could not completely shut out what was being done to her 'down there'. The metal speculum had been warmed before insertion, and the probing rubbery fingers tried their best to be gentle, but they were all still extremely uncomfortable, to say the least. Although in the doctor's defense, the discomfort was largely due to what her father had done to her before this, and not the doctor's actions. She tried to focus her mind on something else besides the discomfort, but the only other thing she could think about was Dr Lopez's previous words.

Was it really possible? Could Dr Lopez really gather sufficient evidence against her father to put him away forever? It seemed almost too good to be true.

She had wanted to keep her home life a secret because of the shame. The public shame for herself, of everyone knowing what had been done to her, and after she discovered she was pregnant, the lifelong shame for her child, of knowing how she was conceived, who her father was.

But now she had a bigger concern than shamefulness to consider, she had to think of their safety as well. If she refused to make a police report, and left the hospital against medical advice, he would eventually hunt her down and very likely murder her for having gone to the hospital about this. Or worse, make her wish she was dead. She was very thankful her baby had survived what happened tonight, but the next time he got his hands on her, she might not be so lucky. She didn't just have herself to think about, she had to consider the welfare of her child too?

After all, hadn't her little one been the only reason she had decided to attempt the daring escape?

_"Mother?" Quinn asked, hope shining in her eyes, when she saw her mother walk into the room. "Please untie me, it's too tight and it's cutting off my circulation. He's finished, right? And I won't run away or anything, I promise."_

_Judy only stared down coldly at her daughter, stripped bare with both hands tied with twine to a bedpost. She sneered. "As if I would lift a finger to help you."_

_"Please, mother. You know it was Father who ordered me to bully Rachel Berry, my only mistake there was indiscretion in choosing texting as my way of communication. And he previously approved of Santana as a friend too, because her father is a doctor. We've been friends so long, and he never told me he had changed his mind, I didn't think he minded..."_

_"Do I look like I give a crap about you and your stupid friends?" Judy hissed, interrupting Quinn's pleas. "I couldn't care less about them, or your father's excuses. No, what I care about is when and how you seduced that bastard. What I want from you is for you to return my husband to me!"_

_"What? No! I didn't seduce him..."_

_"Like hell you didn't! Why else would he choose you over me, his wife of 20 years? I see you everyday, prancing around in that skimpy uniform. And don't think I didn't overhear you just now!"_

_"What? I begged him not to, I didn't seduce him, how could you believe I _wanted_ this?"_

_"Liar!" Judy shrieked. "I heard you, you were begging him to sodomise you or let you suck him off. He told you, didn't he, that I refused to do those sick things for him. So you volunteered to perform those perverse acts for him, and I bet you enjoyed them too. Now I finally realize how you managed to steal my husband away from me!"_

_"I asked for it because I didn't want him to rape me the other way, I wanted to spare my baby from his violence. I was afraid he would hurt the baby. I definitely did not enjoy any of it! He didn't even keep up his end of the bargain after that, he still..." Quinn sobbed, unable to continue._

_"You deserved it! I hope that bastard child doesn't die. Do you know why?" Judy lowered her voice. "Because one day, 16 years from now, you will finally understand how I feel, when he is having sex with your pretty young daughter and ignoring your own sagging old body!"_

Quinn shuddered at the memory. It had been the first time she had ever discussed this topic so openly with her mother and the revelations had been shocking. But it was her mother's last comment, or rather, prediction of the future that awaited her and her baby should she choose to stay, that had finally spurred her into action. When Judy left her room, Quinn had spent the next ten minutes frantically biting through the twine that tied her to the bedpost before escaping out of her room into the night.

Only to end up here, in the hospital.

Maybe Santana's father was right, maybe honesty and cooperation was the way to go here. Cooperate fully, tell them everything, and give them the evidence they needed to lock him up forever. Anyway, whether she did or not, her father was still going to murder her when he got his hands on her, so why not do her very best to make sure he stayed in jail for as long as humanly possible?

Her left hand subconsciously moved down to caress her lower abdomen. Maybe if she cooperated and her father got arrested, she and her baby would be safe from that monster forever, she thought with a slight smile on her face. Wasn't that what she wanted for her baby?

Beside her, Santana stared, wondering how Quinn could be smiling at such a time like this. She didn't know what her father was doing down there, but from what she had heard, pelvic examinations were extremely uncomfortable. It _looked_ uncomfortable. She tightened her grip on Quinn's hand when she winced a little, breaking her previously serene smile.

Her gaze followed Quinn's other hand to where it was grazing her lower abdomen. There was the other shocking news, that Quinn was pregnant. Presumably with Finn's baby. Was that why Quinn's father had gone bonkers and raped her? Wasn't he supposed to be some upstanding church leader or something? Teenage pregnancy was _so_ not a valid excuse for getting angry enough to rape your own daughter though, she fumed silently. When she got his hands on him, he was seriously going to pay for what he had done to her friend.

...

Finally, it was all over. Quinn hurriedly readjusted her clothes, while Dr Lopez packed away the rape kit, removed his gloves, and washed his hands. His mind was still reeling from his discoveries, but the night was far from over. He could not afford to break down just yet.

"Sir?" Quinn spoke.

"Yes, Quinn?"

"There's something I have to tell you."

"Go ahead," Dr Lopez said, as he walked over to her bed side and took a seat beside her. "You can tell me anything."

"No, there's something I have to tell _you_," she repeated, emphasizing on the last word. She shot Santana an apologetic look.

Santana understood and nodded. Releasing Quinn's hand, she patted it reassuringly before getting up. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

Once Santana had left, Quinn turned back to the doctor.

"I've thought about it. I want you to go ahead with the police report and submit the rape kit to the police as evidence against my father. You said you'll help me fight the case against him, right?"

"Yes," Dr Lopez agreed. "I'll do everything I can to help you." He normally did not give his patients such guarantees, but the examination he had just concluded had left him with no doubt at all that what Quinn had said was true. There was no way that bastard was going to be able to shake off these charges.

"You're not afraid of him? He's very powerful and influential, are you sure there's no way he has any hold over you?"

Dr Lopez frowned. Quinn was behaving quite anxiously. What was it that she wanted to tell him that was so bad, worse than all she had already said, that she didn't want Santana to hear?

"He has no influence over me," he promised the frightened teen.

Quinn took a deep breath and looked right into Dr Lopez's eyes. "My father impregnated me. He's the father of my baby. He's the only one I've ever…" Here, her voice trailed off, and she looked away, blinking her eyes a few times to hold off the tears that threatened to spill down.

Dr Lopez nodded, maintaining his professional face, although inside his chest, his heart thudded painfully. He had suspected it previously but to have this child voice out his suspicions broke his heart. What had this bastard done to his daughter?

"Santana doesn't know. I told her it was my boyfriend, but I've never had sex with my boyfriend, so it can't be his. Please don't tell her."

"I won't," he assured her, "but I'll need to ask you a few more questions about that, because it could be essential evidence against your father. Would that be okay?"

"Okay."

"When was this?"

Quinn bit her lip. "I... I don't know."

"So this has happened more than once before?" he asked, although based on his examination findings, he already knew the answer to that question.

"Yes."

"How many times before?"

Here, Quinn paused. "I don't know," she confessed finally. "It's happened a lot of times before, I've lost count." Who lost count of the number of times you got raped?

Dr Lopez fought to keep his calm, the idea of this child having been raped so many times that she had lost count of how many, making him want to throw up his dinner. "When was the first time?"

"When I turned 15. After that, maybe a few times a week, unless he's traveling." Quinn paused again. "He has never used any kind of protection," she added bitterly.

"I see." He wanted to end this history as soon as possible, but Quinn looked like she had more to say.

"Anything else?"

Quinn opened her mouth, then closed it again, shaking her head.

He sat down on her bed and looked her in the eye. "I take it that you're going to bring charges against your father?"

Quinn nodded.

"Then I would encourage you to be completely honest with me. It's not that I don't believe you, because I do. But I want to be clear with you from the start so that you're mentally prepared for what comes next. Once you make a formal accusation, you would have to tell what happened many times to multiple parties, some of whom might try to discredit you. The DNA test on your child we'll eventually perform, as well as the rape kit I just collected, is very strong evidence against him, but a consistent testimony from you would also be essential in order to present an indestructible case against him. If he has as much legal prowess as you claim he is, his lawyers will jump on any inconsistencies in your story to prove you're lying, or at least, fabricating parts of the story, so ideally, I would need to know as much as you can tell me."

He paused, and when Quinn nodded, his voice softened considerably. "If you don't feel up to it now, I can come back later. You can talk to me anytime you wish."

Quinn absorbed the doctor's words. It sounded terrifying but she had no real choice either. She had said too much already anyway, she had passed the point of no return. At any rate, she did agree with him, if she was going to go through with this, it would be wise to do her very best to stack up the strongest possible evidence against her father as possible, in order to protect herself and her child. It was the Fabray way – he would also gather the best lawyers to fight off the charges Quinn was about to place on him.

"No! It's fine. It's just... I don't always resist. I struggled a lot the first few times, but it didn't work anyway. He still beats me if I do, so sometimes, it's easier to just not fight it. I still don't want it, but sometimes, I... I don't fight it." Her voice waivered but she clenched her fists tightly to maintain some modicum of control before continuing. "That... That's not consensual, right?"

"No, it's not consensual. And what happened tonight, you struggled, didn't you?"

Quinn nodded. Fat lot of good it did, it had still happened anyway.

"I knew without you having to tell me because I just collected the physical evidence I need to prove it. That's what the rape kit is for. There is a lot of physical evidence against your father having forced this on you, you have nothing to worry about."

Quinn visibly relaxed. "Thank you. Thanks for helping me even though I know you find me disgusting..."

"No," he interjected. "No, I don't find you disgusting, just your father. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression just now. What your father did was in no way your fault. He's the despicable one, you are not to blame for what he did."

"But there were times when I didn't fight him. And he did it so many times, but I never told anyone until tonight... What if the police don't believe me? What if they believe him instead?"

"Don't worry about that for now. You finally told tonight, and that's what matters. It must have been a very difficult decision, and I'm very proud of you for being so brave in telling me this. You won't be the only one talking to the police, a social worker and myself would be present as well, if you wish. I'll also be letting them know the result of my examination findings, and like I said, I'm very good at my job."

Quinn nodded and fell silent, glad that this difficult conversation was over. There was still one more ordeal to go through and then this horrible night would be over. She could do this.

"I'll go write up my report now. Shall I call Santana in?"

"Yes, please, thank you. But please don't tell her..."

"I won't, don't worry. You're my patient now, and any information you share with me is strictly confidential unless you give me permission to share it. I won't tell her anything if you don't want me to."

...

"Hey, I'm Sharon, Quinn Fabray's social worker? You must be Dr Lopez. We met before, a week ago, on Rachel Berry's case?"

"Hey. Yes, I remember you," although in his head, he was thinking that he didn't yet another reminder of their previous shared experience of dealing with the last child abuse victim this hospital had seen. "You're here, already, that's good. Quinn has been cleared and transferred to room 44 to rest. The police have left and they are still in the process of arresting him, they should be back here in about half an hour. Why don't you go in to introduce yourself to her first, before they return? My daughter Santana just left, so Quinn is alone inside now. I've got a nurse watching her."

"Actually, I was hoping to speak to you first."

Dr Lopez put down his pen. "Everything I know is in the report I faxed to CPS and the police. What else do you want to know?"

"Yes, I've read it, I picked it up from the police on the way here. But my questions are more personal, less factual in nature."

"Go ahead."

"Why did Quinn choose to turn to your family? Is she very close to your daughter, Santana?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "Santana seems closer to another girl, Brittany, but the three of them are always having sleepovers at my house, so yes, I would say that they are all pretty close."

"I see. And have you had much interaction with her? She seems to trust you."

"Actually, no. I've seen her around my house but beyond standard greetings, I've never really spoken to her until today. It's mainly my wife, Maribel who loves to have Santana's friends over and she interacts with them a lot more than I do. She's at home now looking after my son, who thankfully slept through all this but when he goes for soccer practice tomorrow, she'll probably come by to visit Quinn."

"Okay, I'll speak to her tomorrow then, if that's okay with you?"

"I'm sure she'll be more than happy to talk to you."

"Okay. Based on your interactions with her this far, what's your impression of her?"

"Before this? From what Santana tells me, she's quite an over-achiever, captain of the cheerleading squad, on the honors roll, etcetera. From my limited interactions with her, I've always thought she's a very normal child, quiet but self-assured. Tonight, she's been understandably distraught and frightened, but she has also displayed strength and maturity in this very difficult situation. I'm sure with the right placement and counseling, she can overcome this. I'm sorry, what exactly are you looking for here?"

"Did you ever suspect anything was wrong with her home life, with her parents?"

Immediately, Dr Lopez's face turned more guarded. "No, I haven't. Like I said, I've never really talked to her or her parents. What are you trying to suggest here?" He visibly bristled at the implications of her question.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. I understand that victims of sexual abuse are often hard to pick up and I'm not saying that it's your fault. I'm sure you would have reported it immediately if you suspected anything."

He nodded. "Of course," he answered tersely but relaxed slightly, allowing her to continue.

"My purpose in asking these questions is more towards Quinn's future placement. Your report seemed to suggest that she doesn't require a very long hospital stay. She doesn't have any contactable family thus far, and in such situations, it's often better for her to be placed with friends and adults whom she knows and is comfortable with, rather than complete strangers, as would be the case in a foster family or a group home."

"Wait. You're considering placing her in _my_ family? But I'm her doctor."

"Yes, would that be a problem? I would also wish to consult Quinn as well, of course, but it seems to me that she might have chosen you for a reason."

"She chose Santana, not me. She's her friend. And she did not come to my home to stay there either, she was just looking for a temporary place to hide. She told my daughter to let her stay the night, and she didn't want her to inform me, the hospital, the police, or anyone else. She was also very frightened of me, I assume because I'm an adult male, and it was only with much coaxing that I managed to get her to allow me to even examine her. Anyway, after what she has been through, are you sure it's a good idea for her to be placed in the same house as an adult male?"

"That would be a problem in pretty much any foster family we place her with but perhaps due to her background, it might also be a good idea for her to learn to develop a healthy relationship with an adult male father figure."

Yes, but why me? Dr Lopez wondered.

"It's okay, that was just a suggestion, I would still want to talk to Quinn first and find out what her wishes are. It's just something to think about, seeing as she's pretty much fit for discharge but has nowhere to go to. I assume she can stay here in the hospital in the meantime?"

"Yes, of course. The police would still need to speak with her tonight, which is what you're here for, of course, and tomorrow, the psychiatrist will review her to check her mental state. Physically, she's well, her injuries are superficial and can be treated outpatient but we can keep her here for a day or two."

"Alright. And if you don't mind me asking, how are _you_ holding up?"

He frowned. "I'm fine. I'm not the patient here. Quinn is, I'm just her doctor and her friend's father."

"Two abuse cases in two weeks and this one so close to home, literally. It can take a toll on anyone."

"I'm fine," he repeated, glaring at her, almost daring her to ask any further.

She shrugged and let it go. "Alright, you take care, I'll go in to speak to Quinn now."

She knocked on the room door, the same one as Rachel's, she recalled with a sense of déjà vu, and entered when she heard a soft "Come in".

Quinn looked exhausted, although she was trying her best to look 'together'. She had clearly just opened her eyes from a rest that had been insufficient to help her fully recover her strength. Sharon felt for her, that with the upcoming police interview, her long night wasn't over yet.

Quinn looked warily at the woman that had just entered her room. Why couldn't these hospital staff just leave her alone and let her rest in peace?

"Hi, I'm Sharon," the blonde-haired, blue-eyed lady said with a smile. "What's your name?"

Quinn stared at her without saying a word, but that did not seem to faze the woman.

"I'm your social worker from Child Protective Services. You must be Quinn Fabray."

"Why do you ask if you already know who I am?"

"Out of habit, I suppose." Sharon shrugged but did not get angry. Quinn found that it only annoyed her.

"What do you want from me? I'm going to give my statement to the police soon, you can stick around for it if you want. I have nothing else to say to you otherwise."

"I'm not here for a statement, I just wanted to introduce myself to you and check up on you, find out how you're holding up."

"I'm fine."

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Sharon asked, pointing to the chair that Santana had recently vacated.

"Can I say no?" Quinn retorted.

Sharon sat down anyway. The girl was clearly upset, and there was no point challenging her at this point unless it got too out of hand. Besides, her anger was most likely a defence mechanism for what had happened to her, and Sharon was no stranger to being ventilated on by the foster children she was in charge of, seeing as they were often introduced to her when their distress over losing their parents was most acute. She was okay with that and accepted it as part of her job. As long as they showed their foster parents the appropriate respect and managed to get along with them in their new living arrangements, she would congratulate herself on a job well done. Their anger directed towards her, she could allow to let slide.

"How do you feel now?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you look very tired," Sharon replied honestly, with no hint of judgementalism.

"I'm fine," Quinn repeated curtly. "What do you want from me?"

"Okay, I'll cut to the chase then. Like I said, I'm from Child Protective Services, and my job is to make sure that children are protected. At this moment, your parents are being arrested, and so it is my job to find alternative living arrangements for you, a home where you would be safe and well looked after."

Quinn scoffed. She knew about foster kids, she'd read her share of "Chicken Soup for the Soul" books. There were also a few foster children studying at McKinley, but she had never really spoken to them, only recognising them by face, and knowing them as a group as the "Skanks". They were the outcasts, even more outcast than Rachel Berry but they weren't bullied as much because they stuck together and fought for one another. And soon, she would be one of them too, even if she couldn't really see herself smoking and doing drugs. She couldn't do all that while she was pregnant anyway.

The thought of her baby brought her out of her angst, reminding her of why she was doing all these in the first place, getting her parents arrested so she and her baby would be safe. Sure, she would now have to stay at a group home or with some poor foster parent angling for the foster care money but at least she would be safe, and she would have her baby, whom she would now be able to keep safe too. She was pretty sure the foster care system was screwed up big time if they churned out kids like the Skanks, but as long as she and her baby were safe, the "looked after" part didn't matter too much to her. She had her own car and sufficient money in her bank account. She knew how to look after herself, she had been doing so for the past few years anyway. Besides, there was just 600 plus days left before she turned eighteen, she could survive till then. It couldn't be worse than living at home.

"Get to the point, where are you going to put me?"

"We actually prefer the word 'place'. And no, your placement isn't something I could have decided in the half an hour since I got woken up from my sleep to come here. What I wanted to talk to you about is more to seek your opinion, find out your preferences. Usually, we try to place children with family or friends, people they know, especially children who have gone through a traumatic experience, so that they can feel more comfortable, and have an easier time adjusting. Is there any family member you're close to?

Quinn shook her head.

Sharon looked down at her notes. "Your parents are both only children, so that rules out aunts and uncles. Your maternal grandparents are no longer around but you've got a paternal grandmother still living, am I right?"

Quinn frowned. "I don't want to live with her. Just dump me with some stranger or group home or something, I don't need to be with family."

How weird would it be, to be placed with the mother of the man you just put in jail? Would Grandma even understand why Quinn had done what she did? Anyway, her grandmother was a devout Christian too, it would probably mortify her to live with her pregnant and unmarried teenage granddaughter. No, the less her extended family knew about this whole mess, the better.

"What about your friends? You seem pretty close to Santana."

Quinn pursed her lips. If she were honest with herself, it would be great to be able to live with Santana's mom but she doubted Mrs Lopez would want to have anything to do with her anymore, after this. She hadn't gotten to speak to her much at Santana's house, before the ambulance came, but she had seen her, with a shocked look on her face and keeping herself a distance away. She didn't know what had been going through the kind woman's head but she doubted any of it was good.

"Wherever you want to _place_ me is fine," she informed the social worker. "Strangers, whoever, I don't care."

"Very well," Sharon nodded.

At that moment, the police arrived at the door, accompanied by Dr Lopez. Quinn took a deep breath to calm herself down. _The last lap before she could finally get some rest._

…

Quinn slumped down in her bed, thoroughly exhausted. The police had kept on interrogating her, asking for more details, like a full description of everything he had every done to her or made her do to him, and the frequency of each act. True to her promise to herself and her baby, she had tried her best to answer all their questions with all the excruciating details that they had demanded but it was very difficult, probably one of the most difficult things she had ever had to do.

At least Santana hadn't been there to hear all of it. Especially when the police had asked her what had triggered tonight's… events. Besides the text, she had also explained that her father had just found out that some of her friends were of a sexual orientation that he disapproved of. She had avoided Dr Lopez's gaze when she'd said that, although surreptitious glances at him had informed her that he did not understand the significance of it. Santana, on the other hand, would most definitely have understood, and however competitive the two girls were, Quinn didn't want her friend to think her father's actions tonight had anything to do with the budding relationship between Santana and Brittany. He had screwed up enough of her life, she wouldn't allow him to screw up her friends' happiness too. Even if she had befriended Santana on her fathers' orders when she'd moved here, she had come to genuinely care for Santana and Brittany, and she owed Santana that much after all that had transpired tonight.

At least the police had believed her it was all non-consensual. She wondered what she would have said if they had questioned that. In her mind, she saw herself flying into a rage, yelling, "I asked for it, okay? I asked him to rape me in my ass, to spare my baby from his violence. I even offered to suck him off for that privilege. I'm a sodomy slut, you happy now? Now leave me the fuck alone!"

No, she was glad that had not happened. She was fortunate that that topic had not been brought up, such an outburst would definitely not have endeared her to the police. They would probably have thought she was out of her mind and reported her mentally insane, thus nullifying her statement. Her parents throwing off the charges would have become a piece of cake.

She sighed. At least she had somewhat retained her sanity throughout that interrogation and now it was all over. She had discovered she could do this, and the next time she had to answer these questions, it would hopefully be easier. Dr Lopez had said she might have to give her statement "many times to multiple parties", and she wondered how many more times she would have to do this.

Whatever it was, the day was over now. She was finally left alone, truly alone, with no nosy nurse watching over her either, after she had reassured Dr Lopez that having decided to give her statement and file a police report, she no longer had any desire to run away from the hospital and would cooperate fully with the hospital staff.

Well, not really alone, she was alone with her baby, she thought, as she studied the film in her hand. The Obstetrics & Gynecology (O&G) on-call resident had done an ultrasound for her and printed out the picture for her to keep. To anyone else, it just looked like a clump of cells now, as expected at only 5 weeks, but to her, it was everything. It was all the family she had left, and it had been a long time since she had someone, a family member to share her life with. It was also proof that everything she had gone through in the past few hours was not in vain, because her baby was still alive and growing.

Now all she needed to worry about was the results of the STD panel, she thought, as she drifted off to an uneasy sleep.


	29. Being a father

Em - Rachel comes back in the next chapter (: Sue plays quite a minor part in this story. She pretty much knows what happened to Rachel, and I think as long as she knows that Rachel is okay now, she doesn't really want to know more, doesn't really want to care more. She likes her badass reputation :D Which is my own explanation of why she switches between being mean and being nice so abruptly, and can't stay nice for very long. What do you think?

gogolax - I see. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but in Ohio, the age of consent is 16, right? While the first occasion of rape was when Quinn was 15, there is no evidence of that, only evidence of this current episode when she's already 16, hence consent becomes an issue here. Or at least, that's what I think, I'm medical, not law. He does coerce her into sex thus their sexual encounters are definitely not consensual, and that's what Dr Lopez was trying to reassure Quinn about, when he explained to her about the necessity of him recording the extent of her injuries to prove she struggled and clearly was resisting him.

JWilson18 - Thanks! Quinn and Rachel will definitely find out about each other's past eventually. Soon. In terms of days of story, not no. of chapters. (God, this must be one of the very few stories where no. of chapters completely outweighs the no. of days in the story!)

NZgleek91 - Thanks. I don't really know social workers that well so I don't know if I wrote her properly. I did try to keep her personality consistent with when she was interacting with Rachel. From my experience in Singapore's hospitals, they tend to get on people's nerves because they are pushy and invade into people's personal space to try to find out their 'dirty secrets', but actually they're trying to unearth the necessary information they require to do their jobs. Jobs which are very important, because they concern the long-term welfare of the patient. And as for the photos, I just started my O&G posting, and when you look at moms see their baby's ultrasound pictures for the first time... Man, it's like that baby is the most beautiful thing they've ever seen. I wanted Quinn to be able to have that memory, whatever else happens to her or the baby later.

Comegetit - I think the way I've written it, putting her parents away for good is a foregone conclusion. Dr Lopez is right, there's no way Russell can shrug off these charges, no matter how rich and powerful he is. The statements and the trial will be hard but their conclusion is pretty much assured. Personally, I think what's harder for her would be life after this. The uncertainty of her living placement, adjusting to life as a foster kid or an adoptee, the outcome of her pregnancy...

Roxy555 - Thanks for reviewing! I completely understand; sometimes, however much I love a fic, I don't know what to review either. I really appreciate hearing from you. Just as Quinn fans missed her when Rachel was being rescued, the reverse is now true. I'm sure you'll be glad to know that Rachel returns in the next chapter! :D And by the way, Rachel is my favourite character in the show too, but Quinn comes in second for me (:

CarmellaD'Winter – Yeah. I think Quinn's decision to escape was a spontaneous one, and she hadn't really thought through how much her life was going to have to change after that, such as her future living arrangements. Quinn's story does have a lot of anger, Quinn's generally an angry sort of girl, although not quite Skanks level just yet. Dr Lopez has an angry personality too, just like Santana, he's just learnt to channel it to more productive activities like Medicine :D Defensive mechanism: Sublimation.

ricetxpeaches – Thanks! There will be more Quinn-Santana scenes. I know it's the Unholy _Trinity_, but for some reason, I don't really see Quinn and Brittany being very close friends deep down inside. I think Quinn likes Britt because she's so innocent and happy, exactly the opposite of Quinn herself, but because of this same reason, they don't really connect. Santana gets Quinn more, although I wonder if any teenager can really get what Quinn is going through now, the abusive childhood, the rape, the incestuous pregnancy… it's all a bit much, even for an adult

Anon – Thanks. This whole baby thing gave me a huge headache too, but the stick wanted to turn positive, so I couldn't say no. I'm positive (haha) it'll work out eventually, though. Maribel will visit Quinn soon, and she will talk to her husband about adopting Quinn. She'll be an important "recurring character" in my story, even though the main ones will still remain as Rachel, Quinn and Shelby. Siccing Santana on Judy is a lovely idea, by the way, but unfortunately, I've already sent the police to go arrest the Fabrays, so Santana can't really get her hands on her anymore.

Renata – Thanks! Rachel is actually back at school already, and as for Quinn, yeah her return will cause some drama back at school. You're right, Quinn's friends (both old and new) will play an important part in her recovery, whereas Rachel doesn't have any friends. However, Rachel does have a wonderful mom, something Quinn doesn't have, and her mum has played and will continue to play an important role in helping her. It's interesting that they both have what the other doesn't have, and vice versa... They'll both eventually find what they're missing, though (:

olacindy – Yeah, Quinn is definitely cycling through a lot of emotions right now, and I'm glad you can see it too! It was a little complicated fitting all of it in. I haven't met an actually rape victim yet, but I know a lot of patients who cycle through all kinds of emotions when I meet them in the hospital, especially at the ER, and I wanted that whole mix to come through. Quinn does trust Dr Lopez to a certain extent, partly because he's Santana's father, but more because he's been a consummate professional around her. He's clear with his instructions, certain in his medical decisions, but he still clearly cares for her feelings, giving her space when she needs it and offering her options so she can feel like she has some control over her situation (most doctors just order their patients around, hence the commonly used phrase 'doctors' orders'). I would say she trusts him as a doctor, but not really as a person or a man or a father figure yet. There will be justice, and she will get therapy. She has seen glimpses of what a normal good family is, in the form of Santana's 'perfect' family, but you're right, she'll have a difficult time adjusting to any family, after what she's gone through.

GreenLemons – I think the person most disgusted with Quinn is herself, and a lot of how she thinks others view her stems from her own views of herself. Quinn and Rachel might have gone through very different experiences, but what's common to the both of them is the emotional abuse, the psychological trauma that they've faced for a very long time, and it'll take perhaps an even longer time to eventually change that. Dr Lopez was a little mad that the social worker was implying he could have noticed something but not reported it (again, that's his own view and self-blame, not what Sharon was actually implying), but the reaction I was going for, towards the suggestion he could possibly care for Quinn, was actually shock, not anger. Heh, guess I didn't do too good a job at portraying that. I'm not saying if she'll end up with the Lopezes, but do you want to have a go guessing who she'll stay with if she's not placed with the Lopezes?

Guest – She told them? Heh. She told her father to try and stop him from raping her vaginally, since she was afraid it would hurt the baby. Obviously, that backfired. As for Maribel, we'll meet her soon, and Quintana friendship will also definitely be a part of this story. Quinn's relationship with Maribel is interesting, she's fascinated with Maribel's niceness, is jealous of Santana for having such a great mom, and overall, she basically puts Maribel on the pedestal as a 'perfect' mom. But she doesn't really know her personally yet, like Dr Lopez said, she's always pretty quiet at the sleepovers, partly because Santana and Brittany are a lot closer to each other than they are to her, and also because she simply does not really understand how to behave in such a 'perfect' family.

shiniso – Yea, Quinn as a mom is making me smile, despite the horrible circumstances surrounding how she became a mom in the first place. Our 'mean girl' is growing up. Yes, it sucks that rape victims have to give their story so many times, but I guess different parties ask different questions for different purposes, and in a way, it also protects innocent unsuspecting men from being falsely accused should there be inconsistencies in their 'victims' stories (these liars truly give the true victims a bad name). You picked up on the uncertainty of her placement! It will be resolved soon, and whoever takes her in will look after her well, but I'm not going to reveal who it will be just yet. Don't worry about not being able to figure it out, I'm being purposefully evasive here, although you're really smart to figure out that it is someone whom Quinn has interacted with in the previous 26 chapters. Another clue? Her placement will make my writing a whole lot easier (: Interpret that as you wish, haha.

Jordon5 – Thanks! All the best for your fanfic, back it up so your readers can continue reading it if you're forced to move it!

JAMES-EAI – He will get what he deserves, he won't get away with what he did. That would just be wrong on so many levels, even if it does happen in real life…

SA03 – I doubt any social worker would listen to that kind of talk from Quinn, especially just a few hours after her traumatizing experience. Quinn is flawed and damaged to be sure, and occasionally does some morally questionable things, but really, she's a good person who was raised by two of the most horrible parents in the world, and it's a miracle she's still so basically good at heart. I love her, seriously.

Emy – Yep, it is. I agree, Maribel would make a great mom, but don't get your hopes too high just yet. She'll make her appearance this chapter.

Shana – Haha! Actually, you're right, she does sound like Emma Pillsbury! I hope your insomnia isn't caused by me, have you seen a doctor for it yet? By my count, you've been having insomnia since Chapter 20 (your review was on 15th August), which was 2 months away, even if only a few hours have passed in my story. That's a pretty long time. I could ask a series of questions and take a sleep history now, especially since I just had my Psychiatry exams, but that would be way too geeky, haha. So please go see a doctor (: I'm glad you like the rather 'opposite' characters I've portrayed. If you need an explanation, it's that Rachel is obedient almost to a fault, and very eager-to-please, hungry for love and acceptance, whereas Quinn is just a really angry person (she definitely has reason to be angry). And you're right, Quinn's too proud to accept any help without feeling she's being weak, but thank God she has friends and adults in her life who will help her whether she accepts it or not. She's luckier than Rachel in that sense, I guess. As for Judy knowing about the baby, Quinn told them, to try and dissuade her father from raping her vaginally and hurting her baby. I'm sorry that wasn't clear, you're actually the second person to ask this, and I tried to explain it a little in this chapter.

**A/N. I know this chapter is really short, almost the same length as my author's notes, and I'm really sorry about that. I was actually working on another chapter, when I discovered I had missed out this one very important conversation that I needed to happen first, so I abandoned that chapter halfway to write this. So the bad news is that this chapter is really quite short, but the good news is that the next chapter is already half written, and will be out in less than a week, probably next Tuesday, latest next Thursday. And the good news for Rachel fans is that, now that Quinn is 'rescued', Rachel will make her return next chapter, and I'll start writing the two girls' stories in parallel again. **

Chapter 27. Being a father

"I'm going to kill that girl when I get my hands on her!" Russell growled, as he paced about in his cell. How could he have been so stupid as to not have cleared away Quinn's clothes and bed sheets? He hadn't even noticed that Quinn had escaped! And not just escaped, but called the damn police on him, he fumed angrily.

He'd called his lawyer, but that overpaid imbecile had said that he couldn't get him out until the next morning, at the earliest. Did that fool not understand that it was completely unacceptable for a man of his stature and reputation to be spending an entire night in a crummy, stinking cell like this? As if he was some common crook! He needed to have gotten out of her an hour ago!

That bitch daughter of his was going to pay dearly for what she'd done, he'd make sure of it.

...

Maribel paced about in her living room. Her husband would be home soon, and she could hardly wait, there was so much she wanted to ask him. What a night it had been!

First, she was sleeping when she heard Santana shout for her father. Her daughter was prone to occasional dramatics, so she had tried to ignore it and return to sleep but hearing another voice in her house had woken her up completely. Knowing her husband was with Santana, she had rushed to check on Santino, and was relieved to find that he was safe and sound asleep, cuddled up in his bed. She'd closed his door in order to not wake him unnecessarily, knowing how hard it was to put him to sleep again whenever he woke up in the middle of the night. She'd proceeded to Santana's room to check on the commotion, and her relief had turned to shock when she found Quinn curled up in Santana's bed. She was crying, something Maribel had never seen her do before, and she looked completely exhausted and frightened, as though she had just been beaten up. Later, she found out it was worse - She had escaped from her house after her father had raped her.

Seriously? Even now, hours later, she was still finding it hard to wrap her head around such a horrifying thought.

She had not had a chance to speak to Quinn before the ambulance arrived. Santana had accompanied her friend, and her husband had driven his own car there. Long and painful hours of waiting had followed, until Santana had arrived home in tears, dropped off by one of her husband's colleagues. She was relieved to hear that Quinn was fine, and her parents were arrested, but her heart broke at the sorrow in the eyes of her eldest child's eyes. A little bit of her innocence had been stolen that day that she would never be able to get back.

Now that Santana had stopped crying and gone to sleep, and she had been reassured that Quinn was physically fine, her mind now began to think back on everything she knew about Quinn, trying to see if there had been any clues as to Quinn's parents or homelife being anything other than perfectly normal.

Quinn had first appeared in Santana's life when they were in Grade 7. Before that, Santana only ever had one close friend, that was Brittany. Whenever Maribel had asked her daughter why she didn't have more close friends, Santana had always replied that she didn't need anymore. But then came Quinn, a transfer student and a cheerleader too, and the three girls had gotten along quite well. Before she knew it, Quinn had started to join the duo on their regular sleepovers at the Lopezes' house.

Quinn was always quiet and polite, a little too formal at first, but over time, she had relaxed and lightened up a little. Nowhere near as at home as Brittany, who had been a regular visitor to her house since 1st grade, but that was to be expected, Brittany was one of a kind. She had not heard much about who her parents were, except that Russell Fabray was a successful and powerful businessman and well-known religious leader, and Judy Fabray was active in high-class charity events. Maribel herself had never liked that kind of thing, preferring to stay home and spend time with her children, whether it was to check on their schoolwork or bake for the, and their friends, so she had never actually met Judy before.

Whoever these people were, Maribel wondered what kind of monsters would hurt their daughter in such a manner. Personally, the few times she'd had to give Santino or Santana a spanking when they were younger, she had felt so terrible afterwards, even if those had been given only if they had truly misbehaved very badly and she had known they were necessary for her children to learn their lesson.

Quinn, that poor girl. Was her family background the reason why she had been so polite and formal when she'd first met her? She recalled the first few times the girls had misbehaved at her house - Santana with her sheepish smile and Brittany with her innocent grin. In contrast, Quinn's face had been quite unreadable, but she had never protested their group punishments - usually extra chores -, and Maribel had never given much thought to it. Quinn was just quieter, more closed off than the other two girls, she had reasoned with herself, and perhaps that was the way her parents behaved too. She was always healthy and fit, had a good appetite and had always seemed quite happy... Were there any other signs that she should have picked up on that she hadn't?

She was saved from her troubled thoughts when she heard the clinking of keys outside the door, indicating the return of her husband.

"Santana is fine, she's asleep now. How's Quinn?" Maribel asked anxiously, the moment Anthony stepped through the door.

"She's fine," Anthony replied as he reached over and held his wife tightly, relaxing when Maribel returned the hug. "She's physically fine, at any rate, and the worst is over for her. When I left the hospital, she was still asleep. I just came home to get a change of clothes."

He pointed to the Polo shirt and Bermudas he was wearing. He had not had any time to change out of his clothes previously, but these weren't acceptable attire for work, and he had to be back in the hospital for rounds in a few hours, at 7am. Truthfully, he had no idea how he was supposed to return to the hospital and work as though last night had not happened, but he knew changing his clothes would help him to get there. He needed to start feeling like a doctor, and stop feeling like 'the raped victim's' best friend's father. It was too hard to remain professional that way.

"Besides, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"What's it?" Maribel asked, as they let go of each other and sat down on the couch.

"Her social worker came by, to be present during the patient questioning, and we had a little chat before that. She asked if we would be open to taking temporary custody of Quinn. She said that it would be better for her to be placed with friends and familiar people, rather than complete strangers."

"That's a great idea! Quinn knows both you and I, she's been over at our house often enough. Santino adores her too, a little too much actually, I think he might even have a crush on her. And of course, she's good friends with Santana. The social worker is right, Quinn should be with familiar people whom she is comfortable with, who would care for her and be gentle with her." She paused, studying the look on her husband's face. "Why do I sense that there's a 'but' coming up?"

Anthony shook his head, his wife knew him best after all. And perhaps she was right, that Quinn would be better off with them than with strangers. But - and yes, of course she predicted rightly that he had a 'but' coming - he had more considerations than that to think about.

"I'm her doctor. I don't know how to be her father too. I've seen more of her tonight than I've seen of our own daughter, you know I can't just switch between being her father and being doctor. Besides, it was her father that this to her, and you didn't see her when she first saw me... She was afraid of me! It was only when I put on my scrubs and went into professional doctor mode that she started to calm down and allowed me to examine her..."

"Did you know she was a virgin when that bastard did this to her? Now him and I are probably the only two people in the world who has touched her _there_. Don't you think tonight would just made her continue to associate me with her father? It's true that most abused children do better with familiar people, but in this case, I think it's best for her to start on a clean slate with someone else. Family she's familiar with, or some other friend. Surely she has more friends than just Santana."

"What if she doesn't? What if Santana and Brittany are the only friends she has? You know as well as I do that Brittany's parents are pretty much permanently absent in her life, they somehow think that a _domestic helper_ is good enough a parent for their only daughter. They have little enough interest in their own daughter, there's no way they would take Quinn in too."

"I know. But it's really not that simple..."

"But don't you think we owe it to her? Maybe not you, but _I_ owe it to her. This isn't like your 14-year-old patient from last week. We actually know her. She's been over to our house so often, and I never noticed anything wrong. Santana told me it's been going on for more than a year... She must have come for at least ten sleepovers in the past year and I never ever asked if anything was wrong. I've never even asked about her parents before, yet I assumed that everything was fine just because they are supposedly well-respected people in society. I could have rescued her months ago, Anthony, if I had noticed anything wrong, but I didn't, and now it's too late to do anything about that."

She paused to wipe away her tears and Anthony reached over to hold her hands, wiping her tears away for her, with his other hand. He could tell she was really hurting over Quinn, really being eaten up her guilt over what could have been, what she could have done. He understood her feelings better than anyone, because he had those same feelings too.

"I can't change the past, but I can change what I do now. It's our responsibility to make sure she's somewhere loved and well taken care of, and there's no better way to do that than to take custody of her! You know she'll be no trouble at all, and we can definitely afford it. Besides, you're a doctor - her doctor - so you could take care of any medical problems she has after this, and I've been pregnant with your kids twice before so I could help her through her pregnancy, which has to be awfully scary for her. We could do this, we could be her parents."

She paused and looked at her husband in the eye, hoping that her heartfelt pleas could have changed his mind. Sometimes, he could be really be so stubborn, it was not hard to see where their daughter had inherited her stubbornness from.

Anthony shook his head. "I'm sorry," he told her sincerely. "I feel for her too, and you have no idea how guilty I felt all night, examining her, performing a _rape kit_ on her, hearing her tell the police what happened. I know I can't change the past, what we possibly could have noticed, what we might have done to rescue her, but we can't make future decisions based on our guilt about the past either. I, too, am thinking about what's best for _her_."

"You know I have to maintain my patients' confidentiality, right? Quinn told me certain things tonight, things she specifically told me not to tell Santana. I haven't asked her if I can tell you but I seriously doubt it, the poor girl is really ashamed of it, and yes, it's worse than the information that she readily gave Santana about being raped by her father. As her doctor, I have to keep whatever she tells me confidential but I don't know if I can keep such vital information from you and Santana if Quinn is also living in our house."

He sighed before continuing.

"Let's just trust the system once, okay? Just once. If her first placement doesn't work out, we'll take her in, I promise you that. I hope to God it works out and she'll be happy with whoever CPS chooses to look after her, but if it doesn't work out, I will personally see her social worker and obtain the forms to sign up to be her foster parents and we'll adopt her permanent. As for my other issues, I'll find some other way to work them out and deal with them, to be both her doctor and her father at the same time, but it's not ideal and I only want to have to do that if it's absolutely necessary."

"Okay," Maribel agreed. "I understand. Just once, and I hope to God, too, that things really work out for her. That sweet girl deserves so much better."

They sat there holding hands, both silently contemplating their shared hope for the girl they had both come to care greatly about, wishing that despite tonight's decision, Quinn would still know that she was loved. It was sobering to realise that the decisions they made tonight was going to affect Quinn's life, perhaps forever. They both hoped it was the right one.

"Thank you for understanding. I know it's hard for you to."

"Hey, don't thank me just yet. Santana's not going to be happy about our decision, and _you_ are going to be the one to tell it to her," Maribel informed her husband, smirking slightly when he groaned and hid his face in his hands. Considering how much Santana had nagged him about doing Quinn's pelvic examination, she was going to throw a fit when he tells her about this.

**A/N. So, what do you think? Who will be taking Quinn in, and will this one placement work, or will Quinn eventually still end up with the Lopezes?  
Or are you like Santana, ready to throw a fit now that Quinn is not going to be immediately placed with the Lopezes? I'm sorry I caused many of you to anticipate Quinn's placement with the Lopezes with great approval and excitement only to have your hopes crushed that it's not going to happen sometime in the near future. Everytime I read your reviews saying how happy you were that Quinn was going to be taken in by the Lopezes, I felt really know initially I said that I was deciding between two families to take Quinn in, the Lopezes and another one. When I finally decided on the latter, I wanted to show how I had come to my decision, hence all the talk about the Lopezes in the past few chapters. So, how was it? Did I explain it sufficiently, or are you still out to murder me? :/**


	30. Dreams

Lor2than12 - Ooh, I hadn't thought of them, actually. Mercedes did speak to Quinn once, and she approached Mr Schue about Rachel another time, but nope, sorry!

NZgleek91 1 - Santana's dad has his flaws, but for me, I can totally understand his POV. In fact, I would probably make the same decision as he did, to trust the system at least once before resorting to an un-ideal situation. After all, I could always take her in later if things don't work out. As a doctor, we have to trust the system to some extent. Every patient has a sad story and we can't make all their sad stories our personal problem. All we can do is to do what we are trained to do (treat their medical issues, handle medico-legal responsibilities), and leave the social workers to do what _they_ are trained to do (find them appropriate placement post-discharge). I would like to say it's a 'doctor thing' but I'm sure there are some doctors who wouldn't make the same decision as Dr Lopez. I know you, like most of my readers, can't understand/accept it, and that's fine too. But he really is still a good person, I add defensively.

CarmellaD'Winter - She will be loved, I promise! And she and her baby will be welcomed too. There will be initial jitters, of course, as with adapting to any new environment, but she'll settle in soon enough.

Simon - Maybe? You'll soon find out in a few chapters. Yeah, if Shelby took Quinn in, Rachel would probably be affected too. But I think after an initial stormy period, the two girls might actually be good for each other.

JWilson18 - It's not just about whether he is the doctor in charge of Quinn's case, although that in itself is complicated. If he passed her case to another doctor, Quinn would have to submit to regular examinations by this other doctor. Moreover, the issue with far more long-term implications is her placement, and the reason why passing on the case would only solve half the problem is because thus far, Quinn has only told Dr Lopez the identity of the baby's father. Dr Lopez will tell the police to aid the prosecution of Russell, but as per patient confidentiality, he will inform no one else unless given permission by Quinn. And so, firstly, I don't think Quinn is ready for anyone else to know this yet, and secondly it'll be crazy hard for Dr Lopez to keep such important information from his wife and daughter if Quinn stays with them.

HolyShootItzKori - Santana will still be Quinn's sister, somewhat – After all, they are best friends, and this experience will only bring them closer. But Quinn will get another adoptive sister, and it'll be good for her, I promise. (Big clue! Haha.) Rachel and Quinn's friendship will take a while to develop, so far they haven't progressed much yet so things won't happen too abruptly, I'm trying to make this as realistic as possible. Is this your first time reading this story?

Em - No, its not Sue either, I'm sorry. -hides-

gogolax – Russell is committing rape, but I'm still not too sure about statutory rape. From my research, Ohio law does not actually legally refer to Statutory Rape but instead has provisions under "Rape", "Sexual battery" and "Unlawful sexual conduct with minor", so those are what he'll be charged with. Statutory rape is illegal whether or not consent is given, but rape implies a non-consensual act, which is why Quinn was concerned with consent. She needn't have worried because her word counts as evidence, and is congruent with the physical evidence, hence there isn't going to be a legal controversy here.

Guest - Yup, it was non-consensual and Russell/Judy will not be able to get away with what they did. I was trying to explain Quinn's fears (she was afraid the courts would think it was consensual), which was what had finally prompted her to tell Dr Lopez the truth.

Faberritanalover – Cool, may I know why? By the way, sorry, I gave it some thought and I'm sticking with a Faberry friendship. Besides all the reasons I've already given, I think Quinn and Rachel both need friends now, rather than lovers. They need to know people care for them as a _person_, not just because they suddenly have the hots for them (which is what teenage love usually starts with). I think they'll make good friends (:

BellaDora Soulmates - Haha, you are very excited! Yeah, I can imagine that would be really funny. Quinn would totally have a fit.

emms 56 - Rachel comes back a lot this chapter! She might not feature so much in the next, but she returns in the following chapter, and will stay on for pretty much most chapters after that. I'm sorry if you have missed her (:

shiniso – Wow, that's a very detailed analysis of possibilities. You really do want to find out who Quinn is going to end up with. Let me clarify something, Quinn's placement is not a stranger to you (my readers), but might be a stranger to her, at least initially. They will love her, though, and that's what's important.

Rini – No worries, hope your laptop is working well now. Thanks for realizing that the decision the Lopezes made was not an easy one. Yes, Quinn will be loved and taken care of, and that's their hope too, because it would make their decision okay. If things don't work out, they would just be feeling even more guilt. Quinn's new placement isn't a stranger to you but might be a stranger to her, at least at first.

Anon – They're definitely going to stick around! I don't usually flesh out characters if I'm not going to use them. Despite their difficult decision, Santana's parents still love Quinn very much and will want to stick around to be there for her, and also to make sure her foster parent(s) treat her well.

Katy – I'm sorry you think that way. I think she won't feel safe and comfortable even with the Lopezes, but yes, she might adjust and get comfortable faster. Still, I have my reasons for choosing another family to take Quinn in (:

Comegetit – Oh man, wow! No, I don't think that's not going to happen, but it's amusing to consider that possibility. I write high school drama and medical drama, but criminal drama is a bit much… Even the court cases for these simple straightforward criminal charges are giving me a bit of a headache to research and write. No murder is going to happen, gosh.

olacindy - Yup! If the first placement doesn't work (give it time, say two weeks?), Quinn is headed for the Lopezes. I think it's a good compromise. As for Russell/Quinn, the worst he can do to her is over, I hope, there will be no actual attempted murder, if that's what you're afraid of.

SA03 – Thanks for your faith in me! And yup, the Lopezes will take her in if anything goes wrong (: The complexity of Quinn's family situation is a nice contrast with Rachel 'simple' 2 fathers and 1 mom. That doesn't mean Rachel's story will be neglected, though.

Shana – Haha, okay. Never joke with a doctor about possible symptoms, haha, our brains are just itching to make a diagnosis, lol. The Lopezes will definitely still be involved in Quinn's life. I hope I brought it out last chapter that even for Dr Lopez, the main objector, he intends to stick around in Quinn's life for a long time, just not as a father (and I don't blame him – The role of "Quinn's dad" has been tainted horribly by Russell). No one is going to disappear, even if Quinn probably wishes they would disappear after how she "embarrassed" herself in front of them that night.

Guest – No plot line is an easy bet in drama, haha, plot twists are what makes the drama fun. As for her placement, Quinn will stay safe, I promise. They are both arrested and I don't know if I'm going to let them out on bail or keep them locked away forever.

GreenLemons – Thank you! For your faith in me, and also for caring for Quinn beyond the superficial issues of her placement, to her deeper feelings and emotions towards the Lopezes. She really does think the world of Maribel, and the feelings are mutual there. Don't worry, Maribel will continue to stick around and love Quinn until she accepts it.

lemon-rind – Yes, it does, and I'm so grateful to hear you say that. I'm glad you agree with Dr Lopez. I love your love-hate relationship with the plot, real-life is often that way, isn't it? Sometimes, circumstances just suck despite your best intentions.

K – Actually, more than half of my reviewers are anonymous, like yourself, which makes it hard for me to PM them. I do PM some of my readers, and we take our often long conversations backstage. Also, readers do actually read my replies to other reviews, which I'm grateful for, because it prevents repeating of questions. I completely understand if you're not interested in reading what other reviewers are concerned about, that's why I have the changes in font, so just scroll down to the bolded "A/N" to skip the review replies. If there's no A/N, or if there is but you don't wish to read it, then there will still be an underlined "Chapter [No.]…" before the actual story. Of course, all these does make my word count inaccurate, but if you want an estimate, generally in the past dozen or so chapters, due in part to an increase in number of reviews, my 'excess word count' is, at most, about 2000 words per chapter. I do keep track because I deduct it from my chapter's actual word count in order to ensure that my actual story has a respectable number of words before I publish it. That said, number of words doesn't really bother me, as I'm sure you can tell from the very varied lengths of chapters. I like to have a 'theme' for each chapter, and when I've covered the necessary scenes for the chapter, it's time to move on. Any comments about the actual story? (:

Emy – Nice prediction of Quinn's thoughts/emotions. I'm sorry you'll have to wait a few chapters before Quinn's foster parent(s) is revealed, but I hope you enjoy the chapters nonetheless! (:

Guest – Quinn will be placed with someone loving and caring, I promise! And the Lopezes will continue to be there for her whether or not her placement works out. Like Maribel pointed out, Quinn is becoming a part of their family and they all have a connection to her somehow.

Renata – She's turning 15 soon, but I can see why she's your baby, haha. Remember only a week has passed since she moved in with her Mom, and her recovery might take awhile, but yes, eventually she will deal with (and accept) her new reality. Not quite yet, though. As for whether or not she's safe – I'll say this: Quinn's parents have been arrested but Rachel's fathers are still roaming free. Interpret as you wish (:

JAMES-EAI – Thanks, I love your enthusiasm as always! XD

**A/N. Hi guys. I just realized that only a few hours have passed from Chapter 20 to 28! Hope you're still enjoying the story despite how long it's taking for me to tell it. There's nothing about Quinn's possible placement in this chapter (remember, I forgot to write the Maribel/Anthony scene, so this is the original chapter I had intended to publish) but I'll address this subject again in a few chapters. A few chapters on the site, but in actual story time, you'll find out who the mystery candidate is by the end of this story day. As for the unhappiness about Quinn not being placed with the Lopezes:  
1) Dr Lopez is actually a very good person, please see that even if you don't agree with his decision.  
2) Where I'm going to place Quinn, she'll definitely have a much harder time adjusting than if she were going to live with the Lopezes. She doesn't know this new family all that well. However, in the long run, she'll benefit more and living with them will help her recovery.  
3) If it helps, look at it this way – By being placed in another family, she gets two new families, the Lopezes and her new family. The Lopezes will definitely be sticking around in her life, they all do care for her a lot.**

Chapter 28. Dreams

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Shelby demanded, glaring at her.

She knelt on the floor and laced her hands behind her bowed head. "I'm sorry..." she apologized, kneeling up properly.

When she saw her mother's raised hand move towards her face, she closed her eyes and braced herself, hoping for a slap but anticipating a blow. However, the force behind the punch surprised her, and a split second after her mother's clenched fist slammed itself into her left cheek, she was sent sprawling to the floor on her side, barely bracing her fall in time with her outstretched hands. She lay there, heaving from the shock of the blow, staring wide-eyed at her furious mother, before lifting a small hand to the corner of her mouth and wiping away a thin trickle of blood from where she had accidentally bitten down on her lip. She hadn't expected such strength from her mother's slim arms, hadn't expected such a vicious punch. She looked up to find that all traces of gentleness and kindness had vanished from her mother's face. Instead it was contorted with rage, rage that Rachel had put there. And now was going to suffer for it.

"Get up! Back on your knees! Get back in position, you insolent girl!"

A single tear forming in the corner of her eye, and she blinked it away furiously as she tried to rearrange her disobedient trembling limbs so she could return to her previous position.

"Hurry up! And you had better stay in position this time, and stop that pathetic snivelling, or I will really give you something to cry about!"

The fury in her mother's voice shocking her out of her daze, she clambered back to her knees, widening her stance further to gain more stability. Her toes flexed and curled around the floor, trying to gain a better grip on the slippery wet marble floor, to prevent herself from falling over again.

Another blow came a second later, on the same spot of her left cheek, even harder this time, but although she swayed with its force, she managed to hold onto her position, just barely. She could taste the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, where her inner cheek was lacerated against her teeth by the force of the punch, but she made no move to wipe away the smudge of blood. Her hands gripped each other tightly behind her head, and her trembling body vibrated with the effort it took just for her to remain in position.

"Good."

Rachel's heart swelled a little at the approval in her mother's words, although the next sound filled her with dread. Shelby was unbuckling her belt, sliding it out of her belt loops and all too soon, it dangled in front of Rachel's motionless face.

On the surface, there was little response from Rachel, except a subtle flexing of her fingers. Underneath her stoic exterior, however, Rachel was in a state of turmoil. Her eyes stared ahead at the belt being dangled so casually in front of her, well aware that she was going to feel it's sharp sting soon. For the first time.

It was long and black, and Rachel could tell it was well-used, although she wondered if it had ever been used for this purpose. It was thinner and narrower than the ones Dad normally used on her, clearly meant for a female wearer. However, it did have a special feature that would probably more than make up for its lack of weight. Small metal studs lined the entire length of the belt, probably meant for decorative purposes, but tonight, she knew those innocent-looking metal studs would probably be slammed into her bare skin time and again, causing deep bruising at the very least. Hopefully, they would not hit her hard enough for them to cut her skin, she thought as she bit back on her whimpering, not wanting to anger her mother any further.

"Sh... Should I remove my clothes?"

"What do you think? What else could I be waiting for, Christmas?"

Rachel complied immediately, and soon found herself back in position, hearing the familiar whoosh as her mother's belt sailed through the air, landing with a loud 'Thwack!' on the back of her thighs.

She tried to distract herself, to think of dance routines or song lyrics, anything at all, but all she could think about was her overwhelming regret at having finally forced her mom's hand. She had barely lasted a week before her mom had lost her temper and went back on her promise not to hit her. Only one week! How many more weeks would it take before her mother decided she had really had enough of her, and sent her back to CPS? Could she hold out until her fathers finished fighting the court case and regained custody of her? If she couldn't, where would she go in the meantime? And what if they really truly didn't want her anymore? Where could she go then?

The beating seemed to go on forever. Every few seconds, another agonising line was added to her pain-wracked body, as she braced herself to avoid moving out of position, and clenched her teeth to prevent herself from crying out. It was increasingly hard to stay silent, however, and she bit down hard on her lower lip as another blistering stripe revisited an already beaten raw area of her bottom, causing her to almost cry out. Thankfully, she did not, but she was faintly aware that her face was now wet with tears.

Nothing she could do about that right now.

The next lash landed high across her shoulders, catching her by surprise and almost throwing off her balance.

"Stay still, damn it!"

She tried her best, she really did. However, the merciless belt continuously lashed down on her shoulders now, as though determined to throw her off balance and make her fall. Her entire body swayed forward with ever lash, but she determinedly pushed against the forward movement with her knees, arching her back, throwing herself backwards to meet the next line of fire.

Her mother laughed cruelly, wielding the belt with renewed vigour, amused by the way Rachel was almost deliberately offering her whipped raw back to be kissed by the fiery stripes of the belt she was time and again visiting on the submissive girl's sore, bruised and heavily welted skin. It was exhilarating, the sense of power that surged through her, that this teenaged girl would so compliantly expose herself to be hit over and over again despite the pain that she must already be feeling. It almost made her forget why she was punishing her in the first place, as she slashed the belt down mercilessly.

Rachel fought valiantly but it was a losing battle, her mom's arm was too strong and her own reserves of strength was fading fast. Each lash threw her off her centre of gravity just a little more, and soon she found herself falling forward, too forward. She strained every muscle in her body backwards, but it was no use. She was simply unable to return to her original position.

Her hands still clenched tightly behind her head, she did not stretch them out to break her fall, her last act of willful obedience before she fell face-forward into the hard marble floor.

...

Quinn woke up with a start, her body drenched in sweat. It was a dream, she told herself, just a really bad dream. However, the aching pain of her body and the hospital room around her told her that it wasn't just a dream – it was a memory. A really horrible memory of what had really happened to her just a few hours ago.

She sighed, lying back down on the bed. Dream or memory, at least her father wasn't really here. The policemen had arrested him, she reminded herself. They had told her earlier that they had been by her house and not just arrested both her parents, they had also collected much physical evidence of what had transpired in her room earlier. Her parents were both securely locked up now, there was no way her father could be here in this hospital. She was safe here.

She glanced at the clock beside her – 3.14am.

She sat up in bed, reluctant to return to the nightmares that seemed determined to overtake every minute of her sleep tonight. However, her misadventures earlier that night had wearied her immensely, and the necessity of more sleep to aid her body's recovery overcame the protests of her emotionally wrought mind. Soon, her father's irate face filled her mind once more as she drifted off once again into a troubled slumber.

...

Shelby stirred when she felt her hand being moved. She sat up from her previously slouched position and winced. Owww, her back and neck hurt. Especially her neck. What kind of awkward position had she been sleeping in? Where was she?

She opened her eyes, quickly recognizing where she was. She had fallen asleep in Rachel's chair last night after she had carried Rachel to her bed.

…Rachel! She looked down and realized that it was indeed Rachel who was moving her hand. Or rather, her hand was resting on a moving Rachel. Except her daughter wasn't just moving, her back was arched and she was writhing, straining against something, caught in the throes of a nightmare. What was she straining against?

She jumped out of her chair and leaned over Rachel's bed. Her daughter's face was contorted in agony, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Rachel! Wake up, Rachel!" she whispered. "You're just dreaming, wake up!" She reached forward to touch her but just before her hand reached her daughter's face, Rachel's eyes sprung open, staring up at her with wide-eyed fear.

"I'm sorry!" she yelped, shuddering in fear as she struggled. "I'm sorry I got out of position!" Her mom was leaning over her, and she flinched back involuntarily, before she realised what she was doing and forced herself to stay still. Every neuron in her brain screamed at her to move away from the imminent threat but she resolutely remained where she was. Her arms were held down and she struggled to free them, to move them back to behind her head, back into position. Why were they being held down?

Shelby held her hands in front of her and backed away when she saw the terror in Rachel's eyes. Rachel had _flinched_ away from her, was she scared of her? She would be lying if she said that it didn't hurt, but the more important question was, why was Rachel scared of her?

She stood a few feet away from the bed, waiting for Rachel to calm down, unsure of what to do. She wanted to rush over to comfort her terrified daughter, but it had looked as if she was the one her daughter was afraid of, the reason for her daughter's fear. 'I'm sorry I got out of position'? What did that mean?

Rachel stopped panicking when she realized that she was no longer kneeling on the living room floor. She was lying on her bed, and her arms were merely tucked down underneath her blanket. Shaking her head to clear it, she quietened down quickly and stopped struggling. She sat up in bed and extracted her arms from under the blanket, looking up at her mother confusedly.

Did she black out during the beating and just regain consciousness? How did she get into bed then? She looked around the room, then up at her mother. Shelby didn't look angry anymore - Was her punishment over then?

Her eyes fell back down to her bed. She was wearing pajamas, she noticed, which was odd. She remembered removing her school clothes, folding them neatly and placing them next to the wall. More significantly, she vividly remembered the pounding fear in her heart, and her sweaty, shaking hands when she had done so, anticipating the terrible beating that she had known was coming.

"You were dreaming," Shelby informed her, when she saw the confused look on Rachel's face replace the previous terrified one. "Are you okay now?"

So it was just a dream? How could she have been sleeping, when she couldn't even remember getting into bed? She reached her hand to the back to feel around her shoulder blades. There was merely a dull ache there from the remnant bruises and the much healed welts, none of the searing, burning agony she would have expected to find if she had just received such a vicious belting a few hours earlier. Especially if her mom had visited the same area dozens of times consecutively, trying to make her fall.

All of it wasn't true then. She had just been dreaming.

"How did I...?"

"You fell asleep during the movie, so I carried you up here," Shelby explained. She noted Rachel's strange actions and turned it over in her head, wondering what it could have meant. What was she looking for behind her and what could she have been dreaming about?

"Oh. Thank you, Mom," Rachel replied. Her mom had carried her up here? It was starting to come back now. Her mom hadn't hit her at all for the mopping incident last night. No, her mom had wiped her down, as she had every night this week. Then, she had changed into her pajamas, and they had enjoyed a quiet night watching "Funny Girl" and eating Chinese takeout. She recalled the confusion she had felt when her mom had held her as they watched her favourite movie, and how all the thoughts had made her feel so disoriented, so tired... Was that when she had fallen asleep and had that horrible dream?

Wait, her mom had _carried_ her up the stairs to her bed?

"I'm sorry I fell asleep. You didn't have to carry me up here, you could have just woken me up and I could have walked up here myself. Or slept at the couch, which was very comfortable."

Shelby frowned at her. "No sense in sleeping on the couch when you've got a perfectly good bed right here. And you were sleeping so soundly that I couldn't bear to wake you, so I carried you. It's okay, I didn't mind. You're really still too light, I had no problems bringing you up here."

"Thank you," Rachel repeated. She knew the latter part wasn't true, she was fat and getting fatter by the day. Her mom was just being nice.

Rachel looked like she was no longer as frightened as she was when she had just woken up, so Shelby pulled the chair over and sat down in it. "That looked like a really bad dream. What were you dreaming about?"

"I dreamed that I..." Rachel started, then stopped herself, feeling guilty immediately. Her mom might be terribly confusing, but she was also being very nice to her, and she felt guilty that she had dreamt of such mean things about her.

Even Dad at his angriest would usually allow her a wall to lean against when she had to accept such extensive beatings. Trying to make her hold that unstable kneeling position during so severe a punishment was like setting her up for a penalty punishment later on. It gave her an illusion of choice, that she could avoid the second beating if she had sufficient self-discipline, when in reality, there was close to zero chance of success. It only made it harder to bear up under the second penalty punishment beating when she eventually failed.

"Nothing," Rachel corrected. "It was nothing."

"Was it about your fathers?"

"No! It was nothing, really."

Shelby sighed. She supposed Rachel would tell her in due time. Or maybe she would speak to the psychologist instead. Speaking of which...

"Alright, you should go to sleep then. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, you've got many appointments lined up at the hospital."

"Yes, Mom."

"Are you sure you're feeling better? I could stay for a while more if you like, until you calm down and manage to fall asleep."

"No, it's fine," Rachel replied, shaking her head. It would be too much trouble, she had bothered her mom enough as it was. "I'm fine, really. Good night, Mom."

"Okay then. Good night, Rachel."

Shelby leaned over cautiously, and when Rachel did not flinch back, she kissed her on her forehead. She smoothed Rachel's hair back lovingly, and tucked a lock of it behind her ear.

"When you feel ready to talk, I'm always here to listen."

Rachel watched as her mom walked away from her, a tear rolling down her cheek. The contrast between this gentle, kind mom who had just kissed her goodnight and the belt-wielding, insults-screaming mom that had punished her was overwhelming. She didn't know what to think, what to believe. Why was her mom being so nice to her?

Maybe this was the dream instead – a wistful, fantastical dream that her mind had dreamed up to distract her from the pain of her punishment – and the 'nightmare' she thought she had just woken up from was her actual reality from now on. Maybe her mom's kindness had truly come to an end, and she was merely nostalgically dreaming of what she had once had, but had not treasured until it was now too late.

…

Quinn woke up in a panic when she felt the cloth constrict around her right arm. She'd just told her father she was pregnant to try to dissuade him from raping her vaginally but it hadn't worked. It had only made him even angrier, both him and her mother. Her mother was standing there too, watching as he raped her. It was painful and horrible, and so terribly shameful. She remembered wondering about her baby, praying throughout it that her father's actions wouldn't be too violent, that it wouldn't hurt her baby. But she had been tied down the whole time, and could do nothing but lie there and pray.

It's just a dream, she tried to tell herself, except it wasn't. When she tried to pull her arm away, it wouldn't move beyond a few inches, the cloth around her arm was tied to something else. What was worse, there was someone beside her, someone tall and ominous, trying to hold her arm down.

She struggled wildly, especially when she realized that despite straining her neck, her teeth could not reach her right arm. But her left arm was still free! Swinging it wildly in the direction of her right, she hit something fleshy. It was quickly followed by a loud "Damn it!" shouted by an angry male voice. She tensed in fear, expecting a violent reaction in retaliation to her hitting him, but thankfully, the person she had hit fled her room, and she finally managed to breathe.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down, she switched on her room light and pulled off the cloth velcroed around her right arm, only to realize that it was not a restraint, just a blood pressure cuff similar to the one that Dr Shanti had used on her down in the ER. The person she had hit was probably a nurse or junior doctor who had just been trying to take her blood pressure. She felt mildly guilty at having hit him erroneously, even though he really should just have identified himself, she thought indignantly.

Her guilt was soon replaced by fear once again, though, when the nurse returned, the nurse she had just hit, judging by his cut lip. In his hands was a set of wrist restraints, real ones this time.

"I'm sorry!" she yelped, backing away, all traces of indignation gone. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just caught by surprise. Please don't tie me down."

"Look, girl, it's late, I've been up all night, and I want to get some sleep, so if you insist on resisting me and getting violent, I'm just going to have to put some restraints on you. Are you going to cooperate?" he growled.

Quinn nodded frantically.

"Good. You had better, these restraints are staying here on this table in case you decide to try anything funny again," he informed her, as he put the BP cuff back on. Quinn's heart rate quickened at the return of the constriction around her arm, but the knowledge that it was just temporary and the sight of the actual wrist restraints by her bedside helped her to hold her tongue and keep still.

She held her breath for the next few minutes as the machine beeped out her vitals, and the grumpy nurse recorded the numbers efficiently. Neither said another word, and soon he left the room to move on to his next patient. The wrist restraints, however, remained on the table, a silent warning of what would happen if she lost control of herself again.

Finally alone, Quinn switched off the light and in the darkness, at last, allowed herself to cry. It wasn't the night nurses's unpleasant bedside manner which had irritated her, or even his threats of restraining her that her upset her so much. It was the realisation of how weak she had become, that she had actually been so frightened by just a simple blood pressure measurement.

How pathetic she had become?

...

Rachel woke up with a start. She hadn't thought that her dreams could get more horrible, but clearly, she had been wrong. When she had fallen asleep, she had found herself back in the living room sprawled on the wet floor beside the broken glass pieces, with a livid Mom standing over her. Except this time, her Mom was way past hitting her. She stood above her broken, collapsed form, staring down at her with cold, hard eyes.

"Are you quite done with your sniveling?" Shelby asked coldly. "You very well know you brought this upon yourself. All you had to do was listen to me and stay out of my way, and you couldn't even do something as simple as that."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Rachel whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Mom?" Shelby sneered at her. "I am _not_ your mother. Not in the past, not now, and not ever. I don't know why I even bothered to come here and claim you. How can such a miserable, pathetic wretch be my daughter? This, this was supposed to feel good. We were supposed to have some kind of slow motion run into each other's arms. But this is all wrong... You are nothing but a disappointment."

And then she had put on her belt, adjusted her clothes and strode away. Rachel had scrambled to her feet and chased after her with outstretched arms, begging her not to leave but for some reason, no matter how fast and how hard she ran, her Mom continued to glide further and further away, becoming smaller and smaller until she was just a tiny speck in the horizon. And Rachel was all alone.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she hugged herself tightly, lost in her own misery. She could take a hundred and one more beatings but she couldn't bear it if her mom left her too. Just like her fathers already had. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest and she rolled out of bed, unable to contain her fear any longer. What if her mom had truly abandoned her in the middle of the night and had just returned to New York without saying goodbye? She had to know for sure.

As softly as she could, she padded to her mom's bedroom. With bated brief, she peeked in, and let out a sigh of relief when she saw her mom's sleeping form. Her mom was still here, and she hadn't left her. Yet.

Shelby looked like she was sound asleep, so Rachel creeped over to have a closer look. Her mom looked relaxed and peaceful, nothing like the cold fury than had been on her face in the dream. In fact, in her sleep, her mom looked even more beautiful than Rachel could ever remember. She reached out, wanting to touch her mom, to reassure herself that her mom truly was here and this wasn't a cruel dream, but at the last second, she pulled her hand back, afraid to wake her mom up. Instead, she knelt beside her mom's bed and contented herself with just looking.

As she watched her mom sleep, her chest rising and falling rhythmically under her blanket, and her face a picture of serenity, Rachel could feel her heart finally start to slow down too, her own breathing slowing to match her mom's.

That had just been a dream. Her mom was sleeping, and she was even dressed in her own night gown now, no awful studded belt cinched around her waist. She hadn't left her, she was still sleeping in her own bed, and that had just been a stupid dream, a stupid dream that wasn't going to come true. She would make sure of it.

**A/N. A few reviewers have already complained, with one calling this 'smut', which confuses me, because I thought this chapter was okay. So I would really appreciate it if you could let me know if I need to tone down the graphic-ness. Thanks!**


	31. Awakenings

JWilson18 - Glad you enjoyed Rachel's return (: And yup, poor Quinn indeed, that nurse was really nasty.

lemon-rind - Yeah, I wouldn't want to sleep either, but it's not just you who can't function without it; it's physiologically impossible to not sleep for more than a couple of weeks. I can't really keep the girls awake to prevent their nightmares but I also won't describe every single nightmare they have, so I decided to describe one night really well and let you my readers extrapolate the rest. As for how the chapter ended, I wanted to show Rachel's determined side, which she still has, despite her also terribly low self-esteem. Her personality has not been completely reshaped by her fathers' abuse, thankfully some personality traits are hard to get rid of (:

Guest - That was a shocking review. I know I should ignore flames, but some things you said were pretty hard to ignore.  
1) I googled what "smut" means and I wanted to delete my browsing history after that. Being made to feel like a porn writer wasn't fun. I've studied Psychiatry and I get what fetishes are, but I never thought anyone would or could "get off" (another phrase I had to look up) on my fic. The girls' stories are horrifying and even when written from the parents' pov, it's more explaining/"justifying" their actions. There is no glorification of sex or violence, it's in fact a condemnation of such sexual acts and violence by showing the terrible effect it can have on the bodies and minds of these two young girls. Still, I have to say this: If for any reason, you or anyone else are "getting off" on this fic, do me a favour and please close your browser window and stay as far away from my story as possible. Thanks.  
2) I actually welcome criticisms, they help me become a better writer, and I'm thankful for the time reviewers take to critic my story. Ideally, I would like you to only criticize my writing and not me, but I get that writing reveals the mind of the writer, so I wouldn't comment on any criticisms of me either. However, calling my readers "perverted" is pushing it, and insulting my culture as "backwards" and "barbaric" is going way too far. Whether you're referring to my nationality (proudly a Singaporean) or race (proud to be Chinese too), please refrain from insulting either. In Gleespeak, which you can hopefully understand better since you're reading a Glee fanfic, my background might make me a "unicorn" on this site, but I love who I am, who I was born to be, and I'm proud to be different, to represent a different culture. Remember "Born this way"? Besides, family and community are very important to my people, and it hurts me that you would trash my entire culture based solely on my writing.

TomCruise - You're right, they shouldn't, but they sometimes do, especially temporarily for night admissions. Admin doesn't work at night, and it's dangerous to change rosters and reassign/reshuffle nurses in the middle of the night because patients can get missed out (not get monitored). When morning comes and more manpower arrives, the head nurse would make the necessary adjustments.

mistressamy - Actually, although Rachel and Quinn are the two main characters, this story focuses on their individual stories, and does not revolve around Faberry, which is why although the story is already well under way (I anticipate about 60 chapters), I have not been in a hurry for them to appear together. That said, according to my chapter plans, the two girls will appear together again in chapter 32, so that's something for you to look forward to (:

HolyShootItzKori - Thank you. Yes, their psychological damage was what I wanted to portray in that chapter. However, if you think about it, it is quite ironic that Rachel's fathers' abandonment of her probably gave her more insecurities than the actual abuse.

croque - Thank you. I've read "Open Wounds" and it's an awesome story. I'm flattered to remind you of it, but I've got a long way to go before I can reach that kind of level.

Em - Haha, okay, thank you. Good to know :P

Guest - Thank you! I can't emphasise how much your review meant to me, that you're a child welfare worker yourself. I understand what you said about fatalities, we see some of them in the hospital too, and it must be really tough for you to have to deal with those. For me, I guess the survivors and the courage and strength they demonstrate in their recovery stories are what give me hope, hence this story (:

NZgleek91 - Yup, he is, but it happens. He will get his kick in the backside soon, any guesses who from? (: Or who you wish it to be from.

snowdrop1026 - Not all 400 reviewers like this story, actually, but I get what you mean. Thank you.

LindsayGlitters – Thanks! Yep, Shelby has a really tough road ahead. But she's a tough lady too. Where do you think/hope Quinn will go?

AlessanaVargas - Thanks. I like Santana's family too, it's a nice normal family that I can contrast with all the other chaotic family drama going on elsewhere, and I also like that it's Quinn's safe haven. She needs and deserves one.

Shana - Haha, it's okay, clearly I'm prone to dramatics myself, too. I'm glad you don't blame Dr Lopez for his decision, that you understand where he's coming from. I'll be the first to admit that my story can get quite graphic at times, but after some rather disturbing googling of what smut is, I don't think this story has _that_. I'm also glad for your reassurance that my regular readers will let me know if I ever cross the line. Now I'm just slightly worried that if someone were to google "smut glee fanfiction", my story might appear

shiniso - Glad to see you can't give up guessing, lol. I love it when my readers get all excited about my story, their enthusiasm thrills me and spurs me on. As always, I'll try to tell the story as realistically as possible, and will explain how Sharon decides on Quinn's new parent(s). They won't just Abradacadabra pop out of nowhere. Thanks, I didn't mind the personal attacks so much, but insulting my culture definitely pissed me off.

GreenLemons - The nurse's actions will be explained in due time but there is no valid excuse for what he did, yeah. Dr Lopez is not going to lecture him, but someone else will. Any guesses who? (:

sdmwd1115 - Hmm, that's interesting, why do you think Quinn belongs with Shelby? And by the way, she wasn't restrained, just threatened with restraints, which was scary enough. Thanks for the support and encouragement (:

Guest - Yup, he does deserve that! He shouldn't have threatened Quinn, what he did was out of line, yeah.

CarmellaD'Winter - Haha, okay. I hope you aren't disappointed that I've been trying to tone down on the graphic-ness, both because they are terrible to write, and also in order to keep to the 'M' rating. Rachel didn't sleep on her floor but she did kneel by her mom's bed to watch her instead of just crawling in and cuddling up to her as I assume a normal secure and well-adjusted daughter would have done. Then again, a secure, well-adjusted daughter wouldn't have had those kinds of dreams about her mom, and needed to visit her mom in the middle of the night. I guess the two of them still have many issues to work through.

Filmaddict - Yup, she'll start understanding that more and more, soon enough. Thanks for the support and the reassurance (:

Guest - Thanks for your reassuring review (:

Roxy555 - Yup, they do need to talk, but Shelby would probably have to initiate the conversation, since I don't see Rachel doing so anytime soon. Also, I actually like to end off my chapters with something sweet (e.g. Quinn's ultrasound photo), especially after all the horrible things (real or imagined) I put my characters through.

Ajunebuga - You sound happy, that's good :D

Emy - No need to apologise, I'm glad you don't see any smut. I'm sorry it was so sad. Rachel didn't actually sleep on the floor, just kneel beside her mom's bed to watch her mom sleeping. I don't think Rachel herself has any more desire to go back to sleep, this reality is so much kinder to her than her dreams are. Quinn, on the other hand, is quite poor thing. She actually chased Santana and Dr Lopez but maybe they shouldn't have listened to her? She had her reasons, though. And you guessed right, the male nurse didn't know about her situation, and he threatened her out of anger. It's easy to do that while sleep-deprived late at night, after embarrassingly getting hit by a young girl, but it was still out of line. Santana seems to be a great favourite among my readers to 'sic' on assholes, haha. As for Quinn's eventual placement, I won't say who, I will do my best to explain the reasons why it happens as I go along, I won't just throw her in a family too abruptly. Hopefully it won't be forced (:

Anon - Yup, it is, and they do love her very much. Quinn actually chased Santana away and Dr Lopez can't really stay with her without a chaperone, so it's not really their fault. And I'm glad you like that Rachel is back, I've missed writing her as well. Her story is a lot less controversial compare to Quinn's, haha.

Liv - Thanks (:

Rini – Thanks for the long review! Yep, it happened again, but worse this time. Or maybe better, because I was more prepared and hopefully didn't over-react. The anonymity is a little annoying, since I can't reply them or communicate directly with them, except publicly on my story. Thanks for the reassurance, I really appreciate it. As for Quinn's baby, it's safe in her womb for now. You do know its father is Russell, I'm not sure what else about the baby you would like to know. If you're after the outcome, it'll take some time to happen, although you're right, whatever happens to it, be it birth, adoption, abortion or miscarriage, will all add to her pain.

gleefanficfan - Thanks. Glad you enjoyed the chapter (:

Comegetit - Heys. I'm sorry the story is starting to bore you. Could you explain yourself, like maybe explain why you're bored, and in what way the storyline is out of whack? So that I can fix the inconsistencies, and improve the story. Constructive criticisms always help me to improve my writing, so please elaborate.

renata - Haha, okay. Lucky you, when did you talk to Lea Michele in real life? Yup, the dreams were realistic for the both of them, which explains their extreme reactions when they woke up. Too bad for the nurse and Shelby, I guess. And to answer your question, Shelby's family will probably appear in the future, but they won't play a super big role.

SA03 - Haha! I knew this would happen. I've been giving away so many different clues to different people, I knew a few of my readers who read all my reviews would try and put all the clues together. Feel free to speculate, I'm still not telling, although I love hearing your guesses and deductions. What I would say, however, is that I'll try my best to explain everything that happens to Quinn, including her placement, and if my explanation is not realistic enough, feel free to scold me.

Guest - I love Shelby too, and I hope your hope comes true (:

synergyfox – Haha yes, tying someone down, pinning their eyes open and making them read this story would just be creepy, no I would never do that. I know this writing is not for everyone. Hope you and your friend are enjoying the story (:

MTLover – Thanks! Wow, reading the whole story in 24 hours can be quite… difficult. At the same time, I've peppered the story with plenty of clues right from Chapter 1, so reading it all at once might have given you a pretty good guess of where Quinn is going.

Chapter 29. Awakenings

Quinn couldn't sleep. She could hear the increased activity going on outside her room, doctors darting around, updating case sheets, collecting lab results, preparing for morning rounds. There was another group of people – medical students in white coats and holding clipboards, standing around, talking among themselves and trying not to get in the way of the real doctors. Unfortunately, they weren't aware but she could hear every word they were saying.

"Hey, did you hear, a rape victim came in last night, Room 44 over there. I heard the police came in to take her statement and everything."

"Yeah, I heard but I also heard she's like, fit for discharge already. The so-called rape couldn't have been that bad, right?

"No way! Then it can't be rape, right? Probably just a night of rough sex she regrets because the douchebag wasn't her boyfriend, and is claiming was rape so she doesn't have to face up to the consequences. Besides, I heard she's _pregnant _too!"

"No way she knows she's pregnant already if she just got raped last night, or even last week! A urine pregnancy test takes at least 2 weeks to turn positive, even a blood test takes 9-10 days! I know my stuff, I just studied this last night! If she knows she's pregnant already, then she was pregnant before her so-called rape. Obviously she's a promiscuous type of girl, my guess would be she's a hooker."

"Ew! And then she dares to come in here and claims she was raped? What a waste of our time and hospital resources!"

Quinn glared out of the window. She guessed she was kind of thankful that they did not have access to the full story of what had truly happened to her, and were just mindlessly throwing speculations around as a way to pass their time but these was terribly personal details about her they were talking about, and did they seriously have to discuss this right outside her room? Ugh! She wanted to scream at the nosey parkers. In fact, she would have, if her throat didn't still feel so raw and inflamed. She'd probably done enough screaming last night to last her a lifetime anyway.

Seriously, though, they were freaking medical students, didn't they know that sound travels and she could hear them? Not every single word, but enough to know that they were discussing how someone as young as herself could be pregnant. At least it sounded like they didn't know the rest of the story, specifically who had impregnated her. That would have been really juicy gossip for them.

"…God, she really does get around, what a slut she must be, to be pregnant at _sixteen_…"

Damn it.

"_You slut, you temptress, you adulterous whore!"_

_She lay on her bed, utterly defeated. Her mother's words stung. She tried to lift herself off it but had no strength left and settled for turning her head to the side to face her mom._

"_Mom, it was his. I swear it was."_

_Judy sneered._

"_It was! It's his child. I've never slept with any other guy besides him, not even Finn…"_

"_Of course it's his, who else would sleep with a slut like you?"_

"_You do believe me!" Quinn startled. "You aren't surprised… You knew? About those nights…"_

"_Do you think I'm both blind and deaf? Of course I knew, how could I not know? My husband and my daughter having sex with each other while I lie alone on our marital bed every night. Do you know how long it's been? 16 months! 16 months since my husband slept with me and it's all your damn fault!"_

_Infuriated, Judy reached over and slapped Quinn across the face. Normally, she would have cried, but she was so exhausted that she only managed a moan. Tears ran down her face. What was her mother talking about? How could she possibly think that what her father did to her on those nights was something that she _wanted_?_

_Her tears only served to incense Judy further. "Don't you dare try to play the victim card here. This wasn't the first time, and you know it. Do you think I didn't know that you've been whoring yourself out to my husband for the past year? And if that wasn't bad enough, now you've gone and gotten yourself pregnant with his bastard child!"_

_What?_

"_Don't you dare look at me that way. You have _no_ right to accuse me of _anything_. I heard you, you were asking for it, begging him for it. You wanted it, you liked it, so don't you dare act like you're the victim here. You're the whore that stole my husband, I hope you _enjoyed_ him greatly while I slept alone every night, you adulterous slut."_

Quinn turned away from the window, she didn't want to hear anymore, didn't want to remember anymore. She tried to remain still so that the people outside her room would all think she was sleeping and leave her alone, but she couldn't help herself. Memories flashed across her mind and sobs cried as she lay there alone in the bed, wishing that the past 24 hours could somehow just have been a horrible nightmare that she could soon wake up from. When had this become her life?

...

"Good morning, Mom!" Rachel greeted cheerily when she saw her mom walking down the staircase.

"You're just in time for breakfast," she told her as she brought a cup of coffee over. "Black, one sugar, right? Be careful, it's hot."

"What? Thank you," Shelby replied, accepting the coffee and placing it on the dining table. "Why are you up so early on a Saturday morning? What time is it anyway?"

"It's 7.03am," Rachel informed her, although she was distracted by the coffee her mom had set aside without even drinking anything. "You don't like it?" she asked, pointing and worrying her lower lip anxiously. "I'm sorry! You always say you need to have your coffee first thing in the morning to be able to function and I've watched you prepare it the last few mornings and it looked really easy, so I thought I might try preparing it for you..."

Shelby groaned, her un-caffeinated brain unable to handle sentences longer than ten words so early in the morning. Well, there was a simple solution for both problems, she decided, picking up her coffee to take a long sip of it. She had to admit, it awakened her immediately, even if it was a little too strong.

"Thank you, honey, I really needed this, it was very thoughtful of you," she told Rachel, and was quickly rewarded with a beaming smile.

"But you don't have to make coffee for me, you know. Or breakfast," she corrected, looking at the spread of food on the table - toast, jam and butter laid out in the centre, beside a plate of neatly cut up fruits. And a cup of Rachel's protein drink, she noted approvingly.

"I cut the fruits myself, do you want some?" Rachel asked enthusiastically, buoyed by the validation of her coffee-making skills. Or would you like some toast instead, what spreads do you want, I can prepare them for you now!"

Shelby felt a little worried that Rachel had been cutting fruits on her own, especially since she knew she was inexperienced in the kitchen. Even if Rachel was supposed to be old enough to be trusted alone with a knife, it still worried her. Nonetheless, she looked quite uninjured and Shelby was loathe to throw a damper on her good mood. Even if her good mood seemed a little too good that it appeared fake somehow.

"I hope you were careful," she settled on commenting, reaching out to capture Rachel's hands, turning them over and checking them from any cuts. Rachel tensed at the contact but allowed her hands to be looked over and examined without complaint.

Shelby smiled with relief when she found none and turned her attention back to the fruits. "These fruits are cut quite evenly, your knife skills have improved a lot," she praised, hoping to break some of the tension.

"Thank you," Rachel said, breaking out into a smile again, on hearing her mom's praise. "I still can't cut them as well as you, and I ate some of the really destroyed ones so the plate wouldn't be so ugly, so these are actually the better ones already..."

Shelby shook her head. "It's the thought that counts, Rachel, and I appreciate it very much. Thank you for preparing breakfast, you didn't have to, you know? Maybe next time we could prepare it together, and I can give you some pointers to help improve your cutting? Maybe I could teach you how to make pancakes too."

'And watch over you, make sure you don't slice off your finger, or burn down the house,' she added silently to herself.

"Okay, that would be great, thanks, Mom!"

"Besides, I would like to be present in the kitchen the next few times you try to prepare a meal, at least until I'm sure you know how to keep yourself safe on your own. Okay?"

"Okay," Rachel replied, her smile fading a little. Was her mom angry she had used the kitchen without her?

"I'm not mad at you," Shelby reassured her, reading her daughter's expressive face like an open book. She searched for another topic to discuss, and groaned inwardly again. It was way too early in the morning for so much thinking.

"You said it's 7.03am? So, why are you up so early? You know it's Saturday and there's no school today, right?"

The smile vanished from Rachel's face completely, as her lower lip once again disappeared between her teeth. She picked up a few pieces of stapled foolscap paper from the table. They were filled with her neat, tiny handwriting, almost as though they were typewritten. At the top of the first page, the underlined title read 'My misbehaviours and possible punishments'.

"I'm sorry I didn't finish this yesterday," she told her mother as she handed the papers over to her. "I woke up earlier to finish this, then I still had some time, so I thought I might try my hand at preparing breakfast, since you've been preparing all my meals for me this past week, and I wanted to return the favour."

Shelby relieved of the papers. This was definitely not her idea of a more light-hearted topic of conversation. Why had she assigned that stupid essay in the first place? She sighed. now that Rachel had actually risen early to finish it, it would be too cruel to tell Rachel that after their talk and the mindmap she'd written, she hadn't really needed to do it. She sighed. Judging by the length of the 'essay' and the breakfast spread, Rachel had to have woken up at least two hours earlier to finish all these.

"No worries, but next time if I do assign you an essay to write for me again, you have a week to finish it, okay? And if you're busy, just let me know and I can give you more time. It's not homework, you definitely don't have to wake up early on a weekend morning to write it. Weekends are for sleeping in, and you've had a very busy week, having to go to the hospital every other day. You must be really tired."

On the contrary, Rachel felt like she had slept more this week than she had any other time in her life since she was six, what with not having to go for drama/vocal/dance classes, practise for performances at home, or do any chores. Being forbidden to run on her elliptical every morning had allowed her to sleep in every morning as well. She had been given ample amounts of time to sleep, and idly wondered if her nightmares were caused by too much sleep. Either way, it was much more productive to write essays and prepare breakfast for her mom than to lie in bed trying not to sleep or dreaming about punishments that had not yet happened.

Still, she knew better than to contradict her mom. She was actually very grateful for the extra time she was now given for the essays, because this had been a really strange essay to write. Eventually, she had resorted to writing it more like a report, with headings and subtitles. It just didn't flow properly enough to write in prose. Hopefully her mom wouldn't mind since this was, after all, her first essay, and she would try her best to do a much better job next time. Besides, once her mom had read this essay, she would probably realize she had been going to easy on her, and the next time she had to write another punishment, it would most likely be with hands too swollen and welted to hold her pen properly, so she would probably take far longer.

"Yes, Mom." She looked at her mom warily, trying to judge if her mom was angry with her. It seemed too much to hope for, that an essay was all her mom was punishing her with for her flagrant disobedience yesterday and the hurt she had caused her mom. She half-expected Shelby to start reading the essay immediately and selecting punishments from there to punish Rachel with, and relaxed a fraction when Shelby smiled.

"Would you like your breakfast now? Your coffee is getting cold too, I know how much you hate cold coffee."

Shelby watched as Rachel reached over again to pick the cup up from the table, but something else caught her attention.

"What's that?" she asked, capturing Rachel's right wrist before it reached the hot beverage, and pulling her arm closer to have a better look. There was a faint bruise on her right bicep that Shelby was certain hadn't been there last night. Shelby knew every bruise and welt on her daughter's body all too well, having 'bathed' and applied ointment on them all week. This bruise was new. "Did you hurt yourself just now?"

Rachel tensed. There was a slight edge to her mother's voice that hadn't been there before. Silently, she placed her left thumb over the bruise, showing how it fit almost perfectly. Then, she wrapped her fingers around her arm to mime another hand grabbing it. There weren't any finger bruises, though, just the one small bruise from the thumb, she'd checked this morning. She looked back at her mom, chewing her lip anxiously, hoping her mom would understand what she meant and wasn't going to get angry.

Shelby dropped Rachel's arm as though she had just been electrified. "_I_ did this to you yesterday?" she clarified, her heart in her mouth. "When I grabbed your arm?"

Rachel nodded slowly. Why was her mom so upset? It was just a tiny bruise, it didn't hurt at all. She'd only noticed it this morning when she was combing her hair in front of the mirror. She pressed her hand to her abdomen, feeling the dull ache as she did. She had far worse bruises on her abdomen and back now, she hadn't even felt this one hurt.

Shelby swallowed hard as out of the corner of her eye, Rachel wrapped her arm around her abdomen as though to protect herself from a beating. And why shouldn't her daughter be afraid of her? After all the abuse Rachel had received from her father, how could Shelby have gone and hurt her again? The abuse had probably started with a similar bruise too, and escalated from there. Was Rachel thinking that the same pattern of abuse was going to begin here too?

Shelby stared at the bruise for a longer moment, before spinning around abruptly, and walking away, returning up the stairs where she had come from, leaving a very confused Rachel behind.

Rachel chewed her lip nervously, as she stared after her mom's retreating form. What had she done wrong now?

Thankfully, her mom returned quickly, carrying with her a familiar tube of ointment, the same one she had helped her apply everyday after wiping her down. She reached for Rachel's arm once more, and Rachel obediently surrendered it to her.

"I'm sorry," Shelby whispered, as she applied a liberal amount of ointment on the small bruise. Rachel would have laughed at her mom's exaggerated actions, except her mom looked so sorry and guilty, as if she had done something terribly wrong.

"Mom? Why are you sorry? There's nothing to be sorry about, it's just a bruise, it's nothing, really. Please don't be sad."

Shelby turned to her, although her hand remained on Rachel's arm, running a gentle finger lightly over the bruised area, rubbing the ointment in. It would have been easier to use her thumb, but she didn't want to, not when her thumb had caused this in the first place. "It's _not_ nothing. I hurt you. Hard enough to bruise your skin."

"Is that what you're worried about, that the bruise is somewhere people can see? Don't worry, I could cover it with makeup or I could wear a sweater that would also hide it, no one needs to see, or know it's there…"

"No!" Shelby interrupted tersely. "That's not the point. I don't care if people see or know, you shouldn't need to try and hide any part of your body from others because it's injured. Especially if it's because I injured it. _I_ shouldn't have hurt you in the first place."

Rachel frowned. "I thought you were going to beat me last night."

Shelby closed her eyes at the painful memory. "Yes, you did."

"But you didn't beat me. You grabbed my arm and pulled it down and told me to go to my room, and you didn't hit me."

"No, no I didn't. But I still hurt you," she protested.

"But you didn't hit me," Rachel repeated. "So what's wrong? Grabbing my arm just left a tiny bruise, I thought you were going to hurt me a lot worse, like hit me with your belt hard enough to leave welts and bruises that would last for days and weeks. That's what Dad would have done."

_I know,_ Shelby thought but remained silent.

"This is just a tiny bruise, and you were grabbing me to tell me you _didn't_ want to hurt me. And I resisted your grabbing me, which was probably what actually caused the bruising in the first place, so it wasn't even your fault. I shouldn't have struggled against your grip. Then you pardoned me from a beating I had absolutely earned and totally deserved, for which I am very very grateful. You could have hurt me a great deal more, but you didn't, so in that sense it was the complete opposite of you hurting me."

"Oh Rachel," Shelby sighed, as she finally put down the cream and looked her daughter in the eye. "I still shouldn't have grabbed you so roughly. I was so shocked and angry that you could possibly think I would want to hurt you, that I grabbed you with much more strength than I had intended, hard enough to leave a bruise. I shouldn't have let my anger get the better of me. After what your fathers did to you, I never want to hurt you, to do anything that would remind you of how they treated you."

"It was just discipline…" Rachel mumbled defensively.

"Nevertheless, it was never my intention to grab you so hard, to hurt you, or to leave a bruise like that, and I'm so sorry I did, even if it was unintentional. Was this why you were afraid of me last night, when you woke up from your nightmare?"

Rachel shook her head. "I'm not scared of you, really I'm not! And I really didn't feel anything at all until I saw it in the mirror. You really didn't hurt me. You've been very kind to me and really lenient with me, even though I've been so awful…"

Shelby sighed, knowing that Rachel's idea of kindness was being fed regular meals and what she considered leniency was not getting thrashed for someone else's careless fall. Her heart ached at how brainwashed her daughter's traumatic childhood had left her.

"You're not awful," she told her firmly. "You're wonderful and obedient and didn't deserve to be hurt when I grabbed you yesterday evening. No child deserves to be hurt, no matter how badly they misbehave. Please believe me, Rachel, I love you so much and would never ever hurt you intentionally, no matter what you do, no matter how angry you make me."

"Okay, Mom. Okay, I believe you. Please stop crying and apologizing, Mommy. It's just a stupid bruise. I'm sorry I didn't cover it up just now and you had to see it. It's nothing, I'm fine, really. Please don't cry," Rachel pleaded, tears leaking out of her own eyes too.

Shelby sighed. However guilty she felt, Rachel obviously had a different opinion and pushing it right now would probably be pointless. Rachel's easy forgiveness did not make her feel better at all. In fact, she felt even worse. It only highlighted how careless she had been to have hurt her daughter, who was all too used to expecting violence from the parental figures in her life. Shelby knew she would have to control her temper better in the future. She could potentially seriously hurt Rachel without her daughter ever uttering a word of complaint. Why would she, when it was what she had known all her life?

"It's not nothing, but okay, you're alright and I'll stop crying." She swiped Rachel's tears away, then her own. "I'm _really_ sorry I hurt you, and it won't happen again, I promise."

"Okay…" Rachel mumbled to the floor nervously, unsure of what else to say. Her fathers had never apologised to her before for, well, _anything_. She raised her head to glance up at her mom, then her eyes darted around to the dining table. "Do you want breakfast? It's all getting cold. And we've still got to get to those hospital appointments this morning, right? "

A smile crept onto Shelby's face, despite the tears that continued to stream down from her eyes. Trust Rachel to still be worried about breakfast and hospital appointments. "Sure thing. I'll just keep the ointment, and then we can have breakfast together, okay?"

**A/N. I'll cut to the chase. Bad things happen in a hospital, and not everyone who works in the hospital is a saint. Medical students can be hurtful and insensitive, and this doesn't excuse them but they're basically teenagers thrown suddenly into positions of power (adults and even elderly people telling you their most private information, allowing you to examine them… it can get to your head). Sleep-deprived doctors lash out at nurses, who are equally sleep-deprived and take it out on their patients, especially patients who whack them for no apparent reason. **

**Believe me, the medical student in me hates to admit that these things happen, but they unfortunately do. **

**By the way, the medical student in me would also like to say a few things about Obstetrics & Gynecology so people don't learn the wrong things from my fic. Please ignore the rest of the bolded text if you're not interested.  
1) First, is what the pompous asshole medical student has already said: Urine pregnancy tests take slightly less than two weeks to turn positive. Practically speaking, this means that the best time to check is when you miss your period. They do not turn positive right after intercourse, as Quinn claims it did to Finn.  
2) Intercourse while pregnant does not harm the baby although common sense tells you to be gentle. Interesting fact: ****"****Uterus****"**** in Chinese is "****子宫****", which directly translates to 'Palace of the child'. Think about that.  
3) Last but not least, you can't get pregnant from sharing a hot tub. I hope you knew that already.**


	32. No place to call home

musomusi - Thanks! I'm sorry I can't find time to write longer chapters.

Guest - Noted. Your stand is valid, of course, although the nurse could also argue that he has the right to not get hit when he's just doing his job. Most of us in the healthcare industry hope we can be kind forgiving saints, but in the moment of anger/pain/annoyance accompanied by fatigue, we often fall short of what we hope we could have done.

NZgleek91 - Nurse Martha (: And I can totally why you hate Russell and Judy... I wrote them in to be entirely hateable, and I would find it highly disturbing if anyone actually liked them. Empathise or understand maybe.

JWilson18 - Yup, Shelby has a tough road ahead, I feel for her too.

Emy – Quinn will have people to stand up for her, and they'll tell her that her fears are misplaced and they still care for her, but the harder part of helping her would be to eventually change what she thinks about herself. As for Rachel, you're right, although Shelby must be feeling terrible, the very fact that she feels so terrible over an accident is what makes her a good mom. Rachel doesn't realize that yet, but eventually she will (:

LindsayGlitters - Haha, both the medical student and the science tutor in me cannot accept how naïve Finn was to have believed that.

renata - Cool (: I love long reviews, so don't apologize for them. Do you have a account, by the way? It might be easier to PM me personal stories/details than to write it all on reviews. As for the story, you're right, it might just have been an accidental bruise but to Shelby, it wasn't just a minor hurt, what was more important was that it highlighted how Rachel believed that Shelby hurting her was perfectly acceptable behavior.

Guest - No need to apologize but I do appreciate the long review (: Haha, I'm a Grey's Anatomy fan too, and Season 1 Bailey honestly scared the hell out of me, lol. Someone will put them in their place, but I won't be adding anymore new characters, because it takes screentime away from my main characters. As for the Fabray parents, I would love to do just that in the next chapter, but unfortunately, I'm trying to make this story realistic so I'll try to keep to correct legal procedures as far as my knowledge and research allows me to.

Guest - Yea, they were way out of line. Like I said, they are basically teenagers, in this case, gossiping teenagers. This is not to excuse their behavior, it just explains why these sucky things happen. I guess, in a way, Quinn's bad experiences contrasts with Rachel's, who had Shelby to glare at blood-drawing interns and watch over her. What I wanted to show was that, no matter how 'adult' or strong a child is (e.g. You would think Quinn would stand up for herself more than Rachel would), abuse throws them out of whack, and they all need people to look out for them and fight for them. I'm glad you feel so strongly, because it means my writing is doing its job :D

Rini - Actually, I can think of one quite "happy" one, hmm. The students are not staff, and the nurse is just one night nurse. Quinn's hospital experience will get better, although the 'bad start' will probably mean she will never feel safe in the hospital. I adore Shelby too. She sees that Rachel is trying so hard in her childlike way and she gets down on herself because she's not a "good enough" mom, but she's actually really good to Rachel and she's trying so hard herself too. Thanks (: I hope my writing of Quinn and her new placement will also live up to your expectations.

Temperance Isaack - I'm sorry I keep making you cry but I actually take that as a good sign that the strong emotions you feel for my characters means that my writing is making it's desired impact :D

shiniso - Things will get better for Quinn, but I believe her hospital stay is pretty much ruined for her. I wish she had asked Santana to stay the night with her too, Santana would totally have kicked all their asses.

CarmellaD'Winter - You're right, although they are teenagers, medical students ought to be held to a higher standard of ethics because of the nature of work they have chosen and the privileges they are given in their education. It's really important, and what happened to Quinn is a good example of why this is so – the terrible consequences that can occur when medical students act like gossiping teenagers. With greater power (and knowledge), comes greater responsibility.

Anon - Quinn will get out of the hospital soon, but in the meantime, she's not having a good time. I also hate that Shelby blames herself so much but at the same time, I wish Rachel could see it and realize how wrong it is for a parent to hurt her child but somehow Rachel refuses to see that. I'm guessing it's because it'll cause her to have to throw out her entire previous world view, to reevaluate her childhood with her fathers, and eventually come to a realization that her fathers had abused her.

Shana - I love how emotional you get about my characters. Shelby still carries within herself a lot of guilt, she feels like everything that has happened to Rachel is her fault because she "abandoned" her. She's probably looking for any and every reason to blame herself, and is unlikely to give herself a break, although yes, she should. And for the same reasons, she's unlikely to give Rachel the shaking she needs either. As for Quinn, things will get better for her soon, really. Hang in there (:

SA03 - I understand your desire to punch them too. I'm not the punching kind but I totally would have told them off should that have happened in my hospital, even if they were more senior than me.

Fangirl44 - Thanks. Welcome to my story (: Rachel and Quinn's stories do tie together - they'll eventually find out each others' secrets and become friends. I can't wait for that to happen, haha, but it might take a little while more.

JAMES-EAI – Thanks (:

monprincess – Thanks (: I love drama too, it's the third most prominent theme of my story and I would put that in if the site allowed three themes.

Zombielover86 – Haha, I was going to say I hoped it was worth spending most of your day reading my story, and then I read the second part of your first sentence, so thanks! :D Yes, some of these themes are difficult and painful but I want this story to be honest and real. Thank you for appreciating that (:

Farielle4 - Thanks (: For reviewing, and also for the much-appreciated love :D

txwestie - Wow, I hope it was worth it and you didn't miss anything important. I feel honored, haha. I also think they will have a very interesting friendship, which I assure you will not turn into romance, despite the intense Fabrrry pressure, haha. They may be each other's nemesis, but they are also more similiar than either of them realize, and they are a classic example of how hate is ot the opposite of love. I'm very excited to start writing their friendship, but the expectations and anticipation from readers like yourself, which much appreciated, can get quite pressurizing. When my story does get there, I hope to live up to your expectations, as well as make their friendship believable. (:

Lianna - Thanks, I agree it is.

**A/N. This is the last I'll be saying about those medical students: I'm actually glad for everyone's strong response against them. I included those medical students not only to aid in Quinn's characterization, I also wanted to take a stand against gossiping, which is something that really annoys me. I know "everyone does it" to some extent, but I wanted to show how disastrous an impact it can have, especially when gossipers do it without knowing all the facts. **

**One big reason why I love Glee so much is because they use the characters' stories to fight for causes, to shed light on real societal issues. In a way, I'm trying to do the same thing with this story. Not just with regards to gossiping, or the very obvious theme of child abuse, but also other themes like bullying, by showing both sides – the bullied (Rachel's low self-esteem) and the bully (Quinn's motivations). And of course, the over-arching theme – how deceptive appearances are, and how important it is to look beneath the surface of every circumstance and discover the truth, to look past the surface to enravel the beauty that each person possesses. **

**Enjoy! (:**

Chapter 30. No place to call home

Quinn spun around when she saw a white coat come swishing into her room.

"What do you want?" she snapped at him, thinking he was another one of those annoying medical students.

"Uh... Good morning, I'm Dr Andy, Dr Lopez's intern on the Paediatrics ward." He looked hesitantly at Quinn, wondering why she was snapping at him so angrily when she had never even met him yet.

He had read her case file, and had been afraid that she would be scared of him, considering she was a rape victim and he was a male but honestly, she currently looked more pissed off than frightened. She might be another child abuse case, but she sure seemed way angrier than Ms Rachel Berry had been. Coincidentally enough, that previous patient had occupied this same room too. Still, he had learnt much from treating Rachel, and he was going to make sure he didn't make the same mistakes again.

"Hi," Quinn greeted shortly when she realized he was a doctor, not a medical student. He still looked far too young to be her doctor, and she would guess he was not much older than she was.

At least his presence seemed to have finally worked in chasing the annoying medical students away from her room. Even if they probably were still gossiping about her some place else.

"Hi, Ms Fabray... Or would you rather I call you Quinn?" he asked, still sounding a little nervous.

Quinn nodded. "Quinn is fine."

Dr Andy smiled. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes."

"And how's the pain? Is it better?"

"It's fine."

"On a scale of 0 to 10, 0 being completely pain-free and 10 being the worst pain you could possibly imagine, how bad is the pain?"

"It's _fine_," she replied, a little more annoyed this time. _What was with this guy's incessant questions?_

"I'm sorry, I'll need a number, so that I can write it down and trend it, to check its progress and see if it will be necessary to adjust your medications."

"It's a 3, I guess. It's manageable, I'm fine."

"Okay, that's good, that means the painkillers are working." He looked down at the case file, jotted a few notes, then looked up again. "Where is the pain worst? Your back or your uh... down there?"

"Both hurt, but my back is worse. My throat hurts really bad too, actually."

"Why... Oh. Okay, I can give you some anti-inflammatories and throat gargle for that. And as for your back, do you mind sitting up so I can examine you, check on the uh, injuries?"

"No!" Quinn half-shouted. "I mean, no, it's fine. I'm fine, I don't need anyone to take a look at it. The pain is manageable."

"I've seen the pictures taken last night but I'll need to see how bad they are now to know what medicines I need to give you to best relieve the pain, or if for example, it is infected and you require a course of antibiotics."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"How about I get our dressings nurse, Nurse Martha, to take a look at your back later in the morning, when she's done with her outpatient clinic? She's a _female_, and she is really experienced..."

Quinn looked down at her hands, too ashamed to meet his eyes. She didn't know what to say. She had known, of course, that he was technically one of her doctors, and if he had seen the pictures, he probably also knew about her other injuries, and what had happened to her last night. Still, it was awkward to be reminded that he, a complete stranger to her, knew more about her and her body than well, anyone except maybe Dr Lopez. What was she supposed to say in reply?

"Don't worry, she's very good. She will be very gentle with her examination. It won't hurt... I mean, she won't make it hurt much more. From what I can tell from the pictures, it looks like the uh... like _they_ should heal fine without getting infected. There aren't any open wounds or cuts..."

Quinn frowned. She still didn't want anyone looking at her back, but maybe it would be okay if this nurse could help her feel better. What was one more stranger looking at her and examining her? At least it shouldn't be as bad as last night's pelvic exam. Besides, this 'experienced dressings nurse' would probably do a better job than this jittery, nervous intern. Although to be fair to him, Quinn wasn't being very nice to him, which was probably worsening his nerves.

Still looking down, Quinn nodded her consent.

"Okay, you are otherwise medically fit for discharge once you've seen Nurse Martha, although I understand that you'll be staying on for a few more days due to some erm, social issues."

Quinn snorted. A nice way to say that she no longer had a home to return to, after she'd sent both her parents to jail. How could she be discharged if she had nowhere to be discharged to?

"Your vitals look good, but I'll have to ausc- uh, listen to your heart and lungs just to make sure... Do you mind? Otherwise I could get one of the female medical students in here to do the examination, I honestly don't think there'll be anything wrong..."

"No! Please, not them."

Dr Andy took a step back, surprised at the sudden vehemence behind her refusal. "What's wrong? Did they do or say anything... Were they the reason why you were so angry just now? They aren't the most sensitive bunch of students, to be sure, and if they did anything, or said anything hurtful to you, I can help you speak to them."

Quinn shook her head. Hearing their opinion of her had been bad enough, coming face to face with them would have been even worse. "No, it's fine. Just keep them out of my room, I don't want them in here. You can listen to whatever you want, but you can do it over the hospital gown, right? What happened with them doesn't matter. I'm fine with them as long as they stay out there, they can say whatever they want out there, just don't let them come in here."

Quinn was protesting too much for there to be nothing wrong, Andy thought, but he wasn't going to pry if she didn't want to share any further. He jotted down 'No Medical Students Allowed' on her case notes, then turned back to Quinn.

"Yes, I can listen over your gown, it'll only take a minute."

Quinn help her breath as the male intern walked over to her bedside and leaned over her. She almost panicked when his hand moved towards her left breast, but thankfully, the only contact he made with her chest was with the diaphragm of his stethoscope, and not his hand. He was clinical and efficient, and for that, Quinn was grateful.

"Take a deep breath," he instructed.

Quinn complied quickly, she hadn't realized she had been literally holding her breath. He listened three more times in different places, once for each subsequent breath she took, and soon it was over.

It had barely taken half a minute, but Quinn found that her palms were already sweaty. God, what was wrong with her? At least she hadn't panicked like last night, she thought grimly, glancing at the wrist restraints that were still lying on the table in the corner of her room. Beside the vase of flowers that she assumed was to bring cheer to the hospital patients. How ironic.

"Alright, thanks for cooperating with me," Dr Andy told her, looking up from the notes he had been scribbling. "Do try and get some rest. You still look really tired. The nurse will come by in a few hours, and I'll also come by again later today to check up on you."

...

There was a loud commotion outside her room. Quinn sighed and turned away. She could hear Santana's shrill voice alternately firing streams of English and Spanish, interspersed with Santana's all-time favourite phrase, "Lima Heights Adjacent". She guessed that her friend had probably heard similar words coming from those same medical students, and was now telling them off. She didn't know why, but her friend's spirited defense of her only made her feel even worse.

Santana shouldn't have come here and heard that crap, why couldn't she just have gone straight to cheerleading practice like Quinn had asked her to? Was she, HBIC Quinn Fabray, so pathetic now that her vice-captain thought she was incapable of defending herself? Did Santana think she was so weak that she needed to depend on her friends to protect her and speak up for her?

The screaming finally stopped, and Quinn silently counted down. Three, two, one...

"Did you know there's a bunch of medical students talking shit about you outside your room? They were calling you names and bloody taking bets on what your STD results would come back as!" Santana demanded as she stormed into the room.

Quinn shrugged.

"I told those assholes off! They had better not let me see their ugly faces again, otherwise I'll make sure Papi kicks their sorry asses out of this hospital, or at the very least, flunks the whole lot of them losers!"

Quinn sighed. Did Santana really have to make a big deal out of this? She knew how social hierarchies worked, and she wanted to remain as invisible as possible. As a bully herself, she knew that if someone had come to the defense of a girl she had been bullying, she would have just backed away temporarily, then found some way to get back at her in future. This may be a hospital, but those medical students behaved no different from typical high school students, and Quinn had no doubt this would come bite her in the ass later.

"It's fine, S, it doesn't matter."

For the first time since Santana had stepped into the room, she stopped gesturing and looked at Quinn properly. Quinn normally looked so cool and fearsome but she looked so different now, lying on the hospital bed in a hospital gown. From the tired look on her face, she probably hadn't managed to get a good night's sleep either. Was that the fault of those students as well? Damn it, she shouldn't have listened to her friend, she should have just insisted on staying with her last night. Instead, she had slept soundly and comfortably in her own bed last night while Quinn had probably been tormented by who knows what kind of horrible memories, all alone in the hospital.

The events of last night flashed through Santana's mind. Everything was just so unreal. She tried but just couldn't put herself in her friend's shoes and imagine what her friend had to be going through now.

"You knew about them already, didn't you? Were they harassing you just now as well? How the hell could you let them talk shit about you without kicking their asses and showing them who's boss?" Her words were harsh but her voice had softened, betraying the concern she felt for her friend.

_But what they said is true, isn't it?_ Quinn wanted to say. However, she knew it would definitely not go down well with Santana.

"Sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me," she quoted dryly and turned away.

Santana threw her an incredulous look. "What the hell?"

Truthfully, the more Quinn lay in the hospital, the more she felt like Rachel Berry - the lowest life form here. She was at the mercy of all the staff, from the doctors right down to the nurses and those damn medical students, and there was nothing she could do about it. She had come to the conclusion that they could say whatever they wanted, she was contented to ignore them, as long as they didn't come into her room to physically hurt her. Or worse, restrain her.

"You okay, Q? You're sounding kinda weird. And what's up with your SMS anyway? I'm in my Cheerios uniform as you instructed me to, but how the hell do you expect me to go for Cheerios practice today? How can I act as if nothing happened last night, and leave you alone here to fend for yourself, especially when you can't even stand up for yourself against a bunch of loser medical students?"

"I don't need your help!" Quinn snapped. "I'm fine. I want you to go for practice today. _I_ obviously can't go, and someone needs to lead the practice in my absence and I also need you to help me explain this to Coach Sylvester. You're my vice-captain, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am but..."

"Congratulations," Quinn interrupted her. "You're now the Captain."

"You mean that like, temporarily, right? But you're the one who arranged this extra practice with Coach, I'm not familiar with the new routine we're supposed to try out today."

"No worries, Coach never ever follows the schedules we plan out anyway, she just does things at her own timing and tortures us for as long as she likes. Hopefully she'll give you a pass today on helping the girls with the new routine, since only she and I know it, but you'll have to learn it pretty quickly. I can teach you once I get out of here, of course, but I can't be there at the practices. You're now the Captain, the real Captain, not just temporary. Coach will probably find you a new vice-captain..."

Santana's jaw dropped. "No way! You can't quit cheerleading, you're our Captain! You've worked too hard for you to let that bastard take this away from you too!"

"I'm not quitting, I'm off the team. C'mon, S, you knew this was going to happen."

"You know as well as I do that you'll heal in no time, Q," Santana argued. "You're already medically fit for discharge as it is, and your sprained ankle will heal in a week or two. Coach would give you the time off; she wouldn't kick you off the team for something like this that wasn't even your fault."

"I'm pregnant, S," Quinn reminded her best friend. "And I'm keeping the baby, which means in a couple of months, I won't be able to fit into my Cheerios uniform anymore. I'll be _eight_ months pregnant during Nationals. It's a forgone conclusion that I can't be even be on the team in this condition, much less captain it. Anyway, she'd be right too, I'm lucky I didn't miscarry last night, and I should take better care of myself if I want to keep it. So congratulations, the job is yours."

Realisation dawned on Santana and she bit her lip. Cheerleading might seem like such a trivial thing in comparison to all that had happened to Quinn in the last 24 hours but she alone knew how hard Quinn worked at cheerleading. Everyone else, especially the seniors, envied her for making captain as a sophomore, and snatching their chance at leadership, but they wouldn't if they knew how much harder than anyone else Quinn had had to work to earn and keep that position. Not only did she run and go to the gym like a maniac, the only person who regularly went beyond Coach's insane requirements of the girls' exercise regimes, she also did thrice as many drills as anyone else. Before she taught the girls a routine, she would have practiced it at least a hundred times on her own, ensuring that when she demonstrated it, it was done to a perfection that few of the girls could ever dream of achieving.

Santana never understood why she tried so hard; sometimes it looked like she didn't even enjoy cheerleading, but Santana knew that cheerleading had to mean an enormous amount to the blonde for her to put so much blood, sweat and tears into it. Literally. Knowing she was going to be off the team for at least the rest of the year…

"I'm sorry." Santana rarely apologized but now, the words felt tiny and insufficient on her lips.

"Don't be. You're the next best after me, you're a shoo-in for the captain. Don't let the seniors bully you and don't let the freshies slack off because I'm not there. Whip them properly into shape for me, okay?"

"I… but you're all alone here, and after what I saw just now, I'm not going to leave you here on your own again. What if those medical students come back? You can't just lie here and take their nonsense, someone's got to fight for you if you're not willing to fight for yourself!"

"The doctors and nurses are around, I'll be fine. I won't put up with anymore nonsense from them anymore, okay? I promise. Besides, I don't think those nerds would risk flunking after you threatened them with your father."

They both shared a small smile at the memory. Santana had been itching to lash out at someone since last night when Quinn had showed up in her room, and a group of medical students was better than no one, even if the person she really wanted to murder was Russell Fabray.

"Go! Or you're going to be late, and you don't want to find out how Coach punishes the captain for lateness." The memory of her father's lust had resulted in her tardiness that stupid morning 2 weeks ago came unbidden, and Quinn clenched her fists tightly. She tried to focus her mind on her insane punishment session with Coach, rather than what had happened with her father that morning that had caused her to be late in the first place.

"Trust me, it's not fun. I barely survived it myself," she smiled, trying to lighten up the mood.

Santana just stood there, still speechless.

"Go kick ass, S," Quinn said, still trying to keep the atmosphere light. "And tell Coach I'm sorry and I'll turn in my uniform on Monday. One of them is ruined, though, it got destroyed when... Just tell her I'll pay for the ruined one and return the rest on Monday." She fought down the rising pain in her heart as she imagined having to return her beloved Cheerios uniform – No matter how weak and worthless her father had made her feel at home, she had always feel tough, powerful and formidable when she walked down the halls of McKinley in that uniform, like she was totally in control. She doubted she would ever feel like that ever again.

"I don't think Coach would really care about that, Q," Santana finally spoke. "She's a bitch for sure, but…"

"Yeah. Yeah, she's a bitch. Takes a bitch to win Nationals. And you're a bitch too, don't you forget that. Go, go whip the girls into shape and win us that trophy."

"Nationals is still 7 months away, Q, I'm sure me missing one practice is no big deal. Are you sure you don't need me to stay?"

"I'm sure. Wipe that sad look from your face, it doesn't become you. Take that rage you had last night and the anger you threw at those med students just now and throw it all into practice today. It will earn you some respect from Coach, and the girls will respect you for it too. It'll be easier to make them listen to you subsequently."

"How can you even be thinking about the Cheerios now?" Santana blurted out.

"It's just easier, okay, S?"

"I… I don't understand," Santana confessed, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant.

Quinn smiled, a sad smile that did not reach her eyes. "I don't expect you to. But I lost a lot last night, my parents, my home, my privacy, my… I'm not losing the Cheerios as well. I may be off the team, but I'm not losing them, I'm _giving_ them to you. I'll be watching, don't you dare screw it up, or you'll have more than just Coach to contend with."

Santana nodded. "I won't. Take care, okay, Q?"

"Yeah. Go be a bitch, S. Go be me."

Quinn watched as Santana walked out of her hospital room, wiggling her fingers into a wave when Santana turned back to look at her through the window. When Santana was finally out of sight, she curled up in a ball and faced away from the windows to sob into her pillow.

She was grateful that Santana had intervened, but she also felt quite mortified.

Was she such a weakling now that she needed Santana to defend her? Like Brittany. Except Britt was child-like and innocent, with her infectious laughter and her unfatiguable happiness, whereas she, Quinn, was ugly, dirty and used up. She was sure Santana wouldn't tell anyone at school about what had happened last night but it was enough that Santana herself knew. And now that was not all Santana knew, she also knew how weak her 'captain' truly was, too weak to even stand up to a bunch of medical students.

Even if she was completely unharmed and not pregnant, she knew she could never captain the Cheerios again. Something had been broken in her somehow, zapping her of her previous 'strength' – if she had ever had any to begin with. Right now, her previous life as HBIC felt like it had all been a complete façade. Maybe now with the truth of her family situation out in the open for the world to see, this pathetic weakling she was now currently reduced to was who her 'true self' really was.

Pull yourself together! Quinn reminded herself. Even if you don't have your Cheerios uniform to hide behind anymore, even if in a few months, you'll turn fat and visibly pregnant and even if you're probably going to replace Rachel Berry as the biggest joke of McKinley, there's no need for you to be so pathetic as well. Or rather, there's no need for _others_ to know how pathetic you are. Keep your head held high and ignore them, show no one your weakness.

Somehow, though, when she closed her eyes to try to imagine what it would be like for her in a few months' time, what she saw was the annoying Rachel Berry lifting her chin and putting on a confident smile as she walked away from Quinn's insults.

What an ironic turn of events that would be. The fates certainly had a cruel sense of humour, for someone in as high a position as she had occupied to fall so low. It was like a reversal of positions, almost as if this was her payback for all the mean things she had said about others before, not just behind their backs like those medical students had been doing but also in their face as well.

Quinn sighed. If that were truly her future, she could only hope she would be able to handle it with as much grace and nonchalance as Rachel seemed to manage so effortlessly. She still had much to learn from their resident diva.

…

Sharon put on a bright smile as she walked into Quinn's room. "Good morning, Quinn!"

"Morning."

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm fine. You came in to tell me something?"

"Yes. I've just heard from the police. Do you want to know the latest developments on your parents' criminal charges?"

Quinn nodded her agreement, a sudden fear gripping her. Protection order be damned; if her father were to be released, he would almost certainly hunt her down and murder her. Or worse, make her wish she was dead.

"Don't worry, the news is good. They have been deemed a flight risk, and thus have been denied bail."

Relief swept over Quinn. "Thank you." She smiled gratefully at the social worker. "Any updates on my placement? The doctor said I'm fit for discharge."

Her question was met with silence, and she frowned, looking at the social worker more carefully. It seemed like Sharon had more to say, and bad news this time. What was it?

Sharon almost squirmed under the searching glare of her newest charge. Her eyes were sharp and intelligent, and Sharon felt like she was a schoolgirl once more, being interrogated by her principal. She had thought she had seen all kinds of abused children already, from the eight years she had worked in Child Protective Services, but she had to admit, this teenager was unique. As unique as her case was difficult.

"It's my father, isn't it?" Quinn asked point-blank. No niceties from this one, it seems.

"Your father?"

"The great Russell Fabray," Quinn clarified with no small amount of sarcasm. "He's making it hard for you to find anyone willing to take me in, isn't he?"

"Wait... How did you know I was having difficulties in the first place?"

"I know my own father. And your face has both frustration and pity written all over it. I'm assuming both are because you can't find a foster family willing to piss him off by taking me in. And oh yeah, there was nervousness just now as well, because you didn't know how to tell me you hadn't found a foster family for me yet, or whether or not you should even tell me in the first place. Simply allowing me to exist in blissful ignorance instead would have spared you the trouble of telling me this bad news, but this way, I've saved you that trouble as well. Yay you."

"Now your nervousness is replaced by shock that I already know without you telling me anything. Like I said, I know my own father. And I'm 16, not 6, so I would appreciate it if you would just be honest and open with me about every detail regarding my case. I don't want to be kept in the dark about anything and I can handle whatever you have to say."

"Okay." She shook her head, trying to get over her initial shock. "You're right, somehow despite still being in jail and the judge refusing bail, your father and his lawyer have somehow still managed to threaten most of our foster families into not daring to take you in, for fear of consequences to themselves. I'm sorry."

"Russell is not just a powerful businessman, he also has strong political connections. I'm not surprised," Quinn commented bitterly.

"Don't worry, I'll find you a good family to live with, I promise."

_Right_, Quinn thought, but kept her pessimism to herself. The social worker might be the only person on her side right now, there was no need to piss her off.

"So, what now? Do I hang around in this room until you find someone willing to risk his wrath and take me in? I assure you, it might take forever, he has connections with most businesses around here, anyone you find will soon be given some reason to back down. You'd be better off throwing me in an orphanage... Wait, does Lima even have an orphanage for you to dump me in?"

"You're frustrated and being purposely antagonistic, and I get that," Sharon reflected back to her. "Finding you a home is my job and I will do that, I promise. I don't intend to 'dump' you in any orphanage."

"Whatever."

"You never replied my initial question. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." _She seemed to be saying that word a lot lately._ "And if you have nothing else for me, I would like to rest now. If that's okay with you?"

Sharon sighed. She wished she had better news for Quinn, but in the absence of that, she was better off continuing her search than she was trying to give comfort to this girl who obviously didn't want to be comforted.

"Okay. You rest up, I'll check on you again later, okay?"

Quinn nodded. She was getting tired of that stupid phrase. 'I'll check on you again later'? She wasn't really a patient, so why did she need to be checked on? She was medically fit for discharge, remember? She just had no home to be discharged to, that was all.

Would she ever have a real home to return to?

…

Sharon scrolled through her list of foster families for the umpteenth time, and once again, she stopped at the same name. If she were to be honest with herself, this could either be the best or the worst possible placement for Quinn.

Shelby Corcoran. After all her failed candidates, what had first drawn her to Shelby was that she was a freelance music teacher who had just moved here from New York, thus surely Russell Fabray and his lackey lawyers had nothing to threaten her with. They probably didn't even know such a woman existed. They couldn't threaten her family either, since she didn't have any family living around here.

However, there were so many things that could go wrong with such a placement. Not only was Shelby new to Lima – in fact, new to Ohio – more importantly, she was new to being a mother. The only reason why she had moved all the way here from New York in the first place was because her daughter had been found to be abused by her adoptive fathers. Rachel had been physically abused far worse than Quinn had, and what was worse, Sharon, recalled, she had been so severely psychological abused that she had stubbornly denied that she was being abused, and even later when her injuries were revealed, she had still thought her fathers' mistreatment of her had been just 'discipline', because she was 'bad'. Shelby already had a lot to deal with, and when she had first met Shelby, she had shared her fears of being unable to cope with looking after her abused long-lost daughter. How was she going to cope with _two_ abused teenagers? Could she even handle another abused teenager?

Quinn's anger was a different kind of response to the abuse she had received, but in a way, she was just as psychologically traumatized as Rachel was. And of course, there was the all-important factor of her pregnancy to consider.

Yet, it could possibly work out too. There were no males living in Shelby's household, which was definitely a major plus point for a victim of sexual abuse like Quinn. While it could be argued that Shelby might not be able to cope with two abused teenagers, it could also be said that the two girls would be able to understand each other as no one else could, and a friendship between the two of them could only help their recovery.

Honestly, if Quinn's case file had appeared a year after Rachel's, Shelby's would have been the perfect placement for Quinn, barring the fact that Shelby had signed up with CPS only to take care of her daughter Rachel and not because she truly wanted to take in actual foster children. However, there wasn't a year, there were just 9 days between the two girls. Was it too soon? Was there even a long enough time interval anyway?

Sharon sighed. All this going back and forth in her head was just giving her a headache. The only person who could answer her questions was Shelby, and if she hadn't gotten her dates wrong, Shelby would be bringing Rachel by the hospital this morning for a series of appointments. She would ring her up and ask her personally, she decided. Anyway, even if her request was denied, it would still be good to check on her progress with Rachel, find out how the two were settling in.

**A/N. I'm still contemplating whether Quinn should find out about the Lopezes' decision. What do you think?**


	33. Recovery

lemon-rind - Thanks! I'm glad you're still "really excited" despite it's slowness. Yes, it is very slow, it's been 9 days since Shelby came for Rachel, 10 days since Chapter 2, and 11 days since the start of this story. I've been keeping track with great horror at how slow I am; this slowness is new to me since this is my first attempt at writing fiction. Things will hopefully get faster a few days after Quinn's placement, since I want to show their recovery, which has to occur over days and weeks, rather than hours. In their safe new placements, they would also hopefully be able to catch a breather, and have some nice boring/uneventful/monotonous days which I would not have to write about (:

NZgleek91 - Thanks. With Dr Andy, I also wanted to show how a junior doctor learns and grows in competence and professionalism with each patient. Going back to those medical students, they make be gossiping mean jerks now, but hopefully, they'll change as they encounter various patients and good teachers through their medical education and career.

croque - Noted (:

Em - Rachel and Quinn's pasts are both confidential, so only Shelby (their temporary guardian), Sharon (their court-appointed guardian) and the health care workers will be privvy to this information, the girls won't be told much about each other. But as with most things in life, they'll gradually have their own ways of finding out all these information (:

Gleek107 - It's okay to not enjoy my slow or depressing writing, and don't worry, I doubt any of my readers have read your review so no one's jumping down your throat or slamming you down.

Comegetit - Thanks, I intend to.

AlessanaVargas - Okay. Do you think she should _ever_ find out?

sdmwd1115 - Okay, how long / what do you think I should wait for? And haha, thank you very much for saying that I'm headed in a better direction than Glee, but I think that's too high praise for me. I think the TV show is limited in this role by time, and it is also first and foremost a comedy musical. Still, thank you, and I intend to continue writing as I always have.

olacindy - The Lopezes won't be going Lima Heights on anyone. I think Maribel and Dr Lopez are both just as passionate as Santana, and they both care very much for Quinn, but they will fight Russell through legal means and proper channels, so he can be put away properly and Quinn can be protected from his evil claws. Shelby will definitely be overwhelmed for a while but things will settle down after the initial drama.

SA03 - I'll try my best to produce the updates weekly, especially if the chapters are short, but real life would still come first. These few chapters are faster because bits and pieces were previously written, so all I had to do was "join the dots" and flesh out the story. You guessed right, the Lopezes will be hovering around Quinn for a while, and Maribel will be visiting Quinn. The placement with Shelby is definite, yes.

CarmellaD'Winter - Quinn did apologise to Rachel, after which she continued to be "mean" to her only because she was jealous and felt their home situations were unfairly different. Things will change as secrets are revealed.

JWilson18 - Okay. Thank you for realizing that it's not just Quinn who needs a home. In the long run, Quinn would be helped Rachel as well. Rachel would help Quinn, in different ways.

Guest - Yes, that will be something that Shelby struggles with. Thank you for your faith in me. You're right about Quinn, but I think she is also a discerning individual who would try not to be mean to Rachel in front of her mom. However, feeling left out is, I think, an almost inevitable experience of most foster children, especially if their foster parent has their own children. It would be unrealistic to portray her as feeling at home right from the start, especially when she now already has so many insecurities. Many of the readers' fears might come true, especially initially. Shelby will try her best, of course, but Quinn is also going through a low self-esteem phase now and she is also very emotionally astute and would be well aware of Shelby's protective feelings towards Rachel.

shiniso - Russell's lackies won't be able to get to her, there's nothing and no one for them to get to. And yea, most people agree with you that Quinn shouldn't find out about the Lopezes. When, if ever, do you think she should learn about the Lopezes?

Renata - I know, and thanks for sharing your experiences and knowledge with me, but I've created a false scenario of limited resources further restricted by Russell trying his best to block Quinn's placement, so they don't have much of a choice. Brittany's parents have been portrayed as someone who doesn't care much for even her own daughter, which is also why it is Maribel who does "mother-y" things like ensure she finishes her homework. Selection of them as a viable foster option would have to depend on their suitability as parents, not merely on Brittany being Quinn's friend. Which is why Sharon eventually decided to ask Shelby, because she's fast running out of options.

GreenLemons - Haha, lucky you (: Do you know that you just special ordered a Quinn-Nurse Martha scene? I hadn't originally intended on it but I think I should be able to fit it in. Might be well complete the full set of Rachel's healthcare workers, although I think nursing student Jolene is too minor and won't be included. Sue's reaction will come next chapter, I don't really know how to describe her response, so I shan't try to, but no, she doesn't know the whole truth. As for Quinn's placement, you're right, it will be a huge adjustment but everything will eventually work out, of course – I'll make sure it does (:

Guest - I'll be explaining Shelby's reactions for accepting Quinn, hopefully you'll find them realistic. She won't be neglected by Shelby but I think it's inevitable that she would feel slightly left out. It's like when she's with Brittany and Santana, they don't mean to exclude her but she _feels_ emotionally left out anyway because the other two girls share a special relationship. Shelby and Rachel also share a special relationship, being mother and daughter.

Shana - Okay. When later would you suggest?

Hucks - It's not silly, I totally agree with you, which is actually why earlier in the story, back when many reviewers were stoning Quinn for being mean to Rachel, I wrote a A/ N (Chapter 7) saying that "I know Quinn is being a real bitch right now but I meant to write her that way. Not all abused children are cute, sweet, obedient and eager-to-please or scared, traumatized broken shells. Some of them grow up rebellious and others grow up mean, it's the defensive mechanism they've learnt to cope with terrible situations no child should be forced to have to deal with. These are the kids that often put people off, they are unlikeable and appear strong, and therefore fail to receive the help they need. Some even end up perpetuating the cycle of abuse. Give her a break, help her even if she pisses you off, (yes, I've stopped talking about Quinn) give her some unconditional love despite her misbehaviour and just maybe, she'll surprise you." I suppose this is another "issue" I want to deal with through this fanficfion story, and my views haven't changed. Thank you for agreeing with me, even if it's many chapters later (: I'll do my best with the (my!) two girls, I promise.

Emy – She does seem really intent on knowing anything related to her case, but whether she can handle the bad news is another question. _When_ the Lopezes should tell her is what I'm struggling with now :/ Oh well, I'll figure it out soon enough. But yes, I think she would understand it better later on, after she's seen that they stuck around for her – I think actions definitely speak louder than words to her, after we saw what her parents are like, all fake smiles and nice empty words.

Rini – I'm glad you're so happy, haha :D

sunfire1134 – Haha, too bad my cookies will be all the way in America. Still I appreciate the thought, which is what counts (:

Anon – Wow, another "Open Wounds" reference! I'm flattered, but beaner008 is a way better writer than I am. As for Quinn, how/when do you think the Lopezes should tell them the truth?

monprincess – Thank you. Hopefully, you won't have to wonder for much longer (:

gleefanAttic – Thank you! I'm glad you approve. That's more dilemma too, that if they don't tell her now, whether they should tell her later. And if they tell her later, when they should do it, and whether Quinn's reaction would still be negative, perhaps even more so…

**A/N. Just a short chapter to ease Rachel back into the story. I wanted to get the update out of the way before my exams this coming week. Enjoy! **

Chapter 31. Recovery

"You look happy," Dr Lopez commented, when Rachel walked into his examination room. It was true too. The girl looked much more relaxed than she had on that first night when she had appeared in his ER, all tense and nervous. He had read Nurse Martha's reports and knew that she was healing quite well, so part of her relaxed posture was probably due to her decreased pain as she recovered from her injuries. However, surely some of it had to be credited to Shelby too. It was clear from their short interaction that Rachel absolutely adored her mother.

He smiled indulgently as she rambled on about how her "mom" had taken her out shopping and bought her the new dress she was currently wearing, amongst other new clothes. He shared a look with Shelby, who was also smiling away. "Mom" indeed.

To him, that term of address, thrown out so naturally and casually, was stronger proof than the new clothes Rachel was telling him about, that Rachel was indeed settling in well with Shelby. He wasn't naive enough to think that they wouldn't still have a heap of issues to deal with, and probably years of therapy to undergo as well, but he was optimistic that the two of them were going to make it as a family unit.

"That's really good to hear," he commented, when Rachel paused for a breather. "You seem to be settling in quite well, I'm very pleased with the progress of your recovery as well."

"That's because my mom has been taking really good care of me," Rachel told him, throwing a brilliant smile at Shelby. She turned back to Dr Lopez eagerly. "Does that mean I get to shower on my own today?"

"Yes, I believe it does."

Rachel beamed.

"You'll need to return for another CT scan in 3 weeks, to ensure the bleeding in your brain has gone down completely but otherwise you're pretty much fine." He noted Rachel's happy grin with a smile of her own. "That said, you're still healing and therefore still on activity restriction this week, understand?"

Rachel nodded and gave a dramatic sigh, which earned her a laugh from the doctor.

"Don't give your mom any trouble about that, okay? Dancing can wait one more week until you are all healed. You've made such a great recovery so far, it wouldn't do for you to undo all the good work we've done for you so far and putting your recovery back by a few more weeks when you're so close to getting better."

"I understand. I've been healing very well and I'll continue to listen to you and Mom. However, just to clarify, I was admitted last Thursday, so I only have to stay on restriction until this Thursday, right? Not right through to the weekend."

"Technically, you were discharged on Sunday..." he began, and stopped when Rachel's face fell. "However, Thursday should be fine. You _are_ healing remarkably well, after all. But Thursday is just an arbitrary cutoff, the bruises will still stay for a few more weeks, and some of the other welts and cuts won't go away quite so soon either, maybe for a week more. You would probably still be experiencing a fair amount of pain for some time, so I'll continue you on your painkillers. I know you like to act like nothing is wrong and you can do everything on your own but please try to take care of yourself, listen to your body and exercise caution. Don't worry your mom unnecessarily."

He turned to Shelby. "You don't have to bring her back for more dressings changes, but you should buy a supply of the smaller waterproof dressings to change whenever she needs it. Nurse Martha will show you how to use them, but it's really simple, just stick them on."

Shelby nodded. "I will."

Dr Lopez turned his attention back to Rachel. "Alright, then I guess you're all done with me. However, I understand that you still have quite the parade of medical professionals to see today?"

"Yup. After you, I have to see a developmental paediatrician and a dietician. Then I'll find Nurse Martha for my final dressings change to the waterproof kind, after which I have to go see a psychiatrist." She pouted a little at the last one - it was stupid! The developmental paediatrician, on the other hand, she could perhaps understand, since she was nearing 15 and was a little behind on her pubertal developments, like starting her menstruation, but it was dumb to make her see a psychiatrist. She wasn't crazy or anything. She supposed it was because they thought she had been 'abused' and was thus 'traumatized. Well, she _wasn't_ traumatized, and that should be further proof to them that her fathers had _not_ abused her.

Dr Lopez smiled at her reaction. It was typical, really, and it was good to see this previously frightened girl begin to show some typical teenage behaviour.

"Well, contrary to what most patients think, doctors do not like to see patients who aren't well, so if you're fine, I'm sure they, too, will discharge you in no time."

Rachel nodded.

"Is there anything else you wish to ask me, or tell me? I could ask your mom to wait outside if it's private."

"No, sir, there's nothing else. Thank you for looking after me so well."

"No need to thank me, Rachel, I'm just doing my job. And like you said, it's your mom who has been looking after you this past week, whereas I'm only seeing you for 5 minutes, so really it's your mom that you should be thanking."

"Yes, sir," Rachel nodded and turned back to her mom. "Thank you, Mom!" she said earnestly.

Dr Lopez smiled, something he recognized he was doing uncharacteristically frequently during this consultation. But could you really blame him? The recovery that Shelby had helped Rachel achieve this past week was nothing short of remarkable. He needed this, after everything that had happened last night. He could only hope that Quinn, too, would also be able to find a good family to settle in with, one which could help her heal as well.

...

"So, there doesn't seem to be any problems with you physically, the only issue seems to be lack of nutrition. You'll be seeing the dietician next, right? I'll let him go through your dietary habits with you and give you some advice on how your diet might need to be altered to best aid your pubertal developmental. I'll see you back here again in 3 months' time." He looked at Shelby. "Don't worry, she's probably just a late bloomer and once she starts growing, she'll probably catch up with her peers in no time."

...

Rachel glanced at her mother anxiously. Her mom was still smiling at her but Rachel could tell it was as fake as her own. Sometime during the dietician's consultation, her mom had become really unhappy. But why?

Nothing much had happened in the dietician's office. He had asked her some very detailed questions of what her diet used to be like at her fathers', and now with her mom this past week. Then he had weighed her and told her she had gained 3 pounds in the past week. He had seemed really happy about that and Rachel had hoped her mom would be too, since she was the one who had been fattening her up all week but when she had turned to look at her mom, her lips were pursed in a thin line and she had looked really upset.

It made sense, she supposed. Her mom was probably upset that she had gained so much weight. Gaining _three_ whole pounds in just one week was totally disgusting. Shelby was probably unhappy that her daughter was a fat overweight glutton and probably thinking up ways to punish her now. It didn't seem quite fair, that Shelby would expect her not to have gained weight after making her overeat at practically every meal this past week but such was life. At the very least, she would probably be put back on starvation rations once again to lose the excess weight. Oh well. At least her activity restriction would be off by Thursday - being able to exercise regularly again should help her lose the gained weight in no time.

When Shelby noticed Rachel's gaze, she tried to smile at her. Rachel returned the smile but she knew better. They were in a public place, so a smile was mandatory, but she would probably "get it" when she got home. Whatever "it" was. After all, they were headed for her final dressings change with Nurse Martha now, after which, there would be no more regular physical examinations by the hospital staff, and no one would know if her Mom was hitting her.

Her outrage yesterday was probably because she thought Rachel was trying to get her into trouble by asking to be punished _before_ her dressings change. And she was smart right in having the foresight to take that into consideration too – Nurse Martha would probably have reported any new marks she saw and her mom could have ended up just like her fathers. This was probably also the reason why her mom had been so insistent that Rachel look after the dressings properly and get changed to the waterproof ones quickly.

This way, by restraining herself for a week and allowing everything to heal properly, they could satisfy the healthcare workers, and no one would suspect anything. However, now her one-week reprieve was over and everything would be going back to normal. Her mom even had her essay to refer to now, so she would know what "normal" meant. Honestly, she was relieved. She was! Normal was what she was used to, what she excelled in.

Ugh, everything was so confusing. Hopefully, all these appointments would end soon and life with her mom would settle back into some semblance of normalcy. It had been fun being so pampered this past week but it had also been really unsettling, not knowing what to expect. It would be nice to see her mom start acting like a real mom soon. Especially since a real mom who punished errors and lay down proper rules was also a mom who would probably stay in this for the long run – through both the good and the bad.

...

"Yup, that's how you do it," Martha concluded as Shelby neatly pressed down on the edges of the waterproof dressing, ensuring that it was securely applied. "Just make sure you remember to clean your hands before and after applying these bandages, an infection is less likely now but still possible. And remember to bring her back here if any of it looks like it's getting worse, for instance if they get more inflamed, or start to exude pus, or if she tells you they're getting more painful."

"Of course. Thank you, again, for all that you've done to help Rachel, and for teaching me as well."

Nurse Martha smiled. "It's my job, and you're a pretty good student. Why don't you check your phone now while I finish up here? I heard it ring just now while you were applying the bandage. I can finish this a lot faster if I do it alone."

Shelby nodded, washing her hands - under the watchful eye of the nurse – before she picked up her cellphone.

"Sharon, Rachel's social worker from CPS wants to meet me at Room 19 later. Do you know where that is?"

"That's in Clinic B, on the 3rd floor. Room 19 is actually labelled 'Medical Social Workers' but I know the social workers from CPS often use that room too. It's actually right beside the psychiatrist's office, which is Rachel's next appointment." She paused for a moment to consider something that she had just noticed.

"Sharon only wants to meet you, right? Why don't you go ahead first? I'll bring Rachel to the psychiatrist's office myself later, she's my last clinic patient anyway. They did tell you that Dr Janet likes to meet the both of you separately first before speaking to the both of you together, right? This way, Rachel can speak to Dr Janet while you're speaking to Sharon, and when you're done with Sharon, you can move right on to speak with Dr Janet alone before the both of you meet her together."

"It's okay, I can wait." Shelby turned to Rachel. "You don't mind if lunch is a little later today, right?"

Rachel shook her head.

_Oh, what the heck, I might as well be honest here. _Besides, her response might be quite telling.

"Actually, I was just about to ask you for some time alone with Rachel. You know, just to ask her some questions, check up on her, make sure she's fine. She might find it easier to talk to me if it's just the two of us."

Shelby was no fool, she knew what Nurse Martha wanted to ask Rachel about, but in some way, it was nice to know that Rachel had other people looking out for her too. They were just having a high index of suspicion, and unlike Rachel who naively gave away her trust so willingly, the doctors and nurses were less so, and Shelby knew she would have to earn their trust over time.

She looked at Rachel, "Would that be okay with you?"

"Yes, it's fine," Rachel replied. She knew enough not to say anything incriminating about her mom, and she hoped her mom trusted her to do that too. Not that her mom had thus far done anything that _anyone_ can misconstrue as "abuse".

"Alright. Thanks for your help, Martha. I'll see you upstairs later, Rachel?"

Rachel nodded. "See you."

She watched her mom leave the room, before turning back to the nurse. "What did you want to ask me?"

Martha considered Rachel carefully. Shelby's ease with living Rachel alone with her had reassured her a little, and Rachel was indeed recovering very well. However, she also guessed that Rachel's acting prowess must be fantastic for her to have eluded the system for so long, and that might have been what Shelby had been trusting in. Shelby might also have a false sense of security due to the makeup and Rachel's obedience. In addition, Rachel had seemed a little tense and wary of Shelby today, a little more than at her appointment two days ago.

It might not be much, and each of these alone would not have raised her suspicions in any other child but this was Rachel's last appointment with her and she wasn't about to let her go off until she was 100% sure that she was safe and happy with Shelby. Even if her wariness was just due to some teething problems with getting used to living with Shelby, maybe talking it out with an adult like herself could help Rachel settle in better.

"So, is there anything you want to tell me?"

Rachel frowned at the nurse and shook her head. "No, there's nothing. What are you looking for from me here? Maybe I could give you a more relevant reply if your question was a little more specific?"

"How are you settling in with Shelby? Is she treating you well?"

Rachel nodded happily. "She's great!"

The talkative teenager was uncharacteristically unforthcoming with details, so Martha pressed on.

"How has living with her been like?"

"Everything's fine. Living with my mum is great, she's really good to me... Honest!"

One thing Nurse Martha knew, was that when people said "Honest!" in such a manner, that was usually when they were being most dishonest.

"Did anything happen recently?"

"Nothing has happened. Everything's fine," Rachel insisted. By now, she could sense Nurse Martha's suspicions, but she didn't know why. How was she expected to put those suspicions to rest, if she didn't even know why she was so suspicious in the first place? "Nothing's changed since Thursday. My mom is still really lenient and kind, she still doesn't want me to help her with any household chores, and she still makes me eat a lot at every meal and makes sure I rest a lot. You said it yourself, my back looks better, doesn't it? I'm healing fine, everything is fine, there is nothing wrong."

_Fine, if you want to play it this way, I'm just going to have be more direct_, Martha decided. "Why is there makeup on your arm?"

Rachel startled. _How could she have seen that?_ "Nothing!" she exclaimed as she jumped off the patient's couch and backed away until her back hit the wall. She hid her arm behind her, sandwiched between the wall and her back.

At the mistrustful look on Martha's face, she repeated herself again. "It's nothing!" she insisted, more frantically this time.

Martha thought it was a pretty exaggerated response over "nothing".

"Get back on the couch please, I'm not done with your dressings yet," she chided gently with a frown but Rachel refused to budge.

"It's nothing," she reiterated, pressing her back against the wall as though to further hide her arm from Nurse Martha's view. She couldn't believe she was disobeying the nurse like this, but she couldn't let her see the bruise. Her mom had been so upset over it, what if she was right, and the CPS really did investigate stupid little bruises like this? After all, they certainly hadn't given her fathers much time to explain themselves before they had removed her from their care. She had already lose her fathers because of those stupid rules, she couldn't afford to lose her mother too.

Martha sighed. She really should have finished the dressings first before confronting Rachel. "I promise not to say another word or even try to look at your arm until I'm done with the dressings, okay?"

Rachel looked dubiously at Nurse Martha. She had no doubt from the determined glint in the nurse's eye that they were not done with this conversation yet, not even close. However, she did need the nurse to finish the dressings, otherwise she might complain to her mom about her disobedience.

She made her way back onto the couch carefully, making sure to use her body to block Nurse Martha's view of her arm as far as possible. She crawled back onto the patient's couch and lay on her stomach, wrapping her right arm around the left side of her bed, so that the nurse, who was standing on the right side of the bed, could not see her right arm at all. While her movements were calm and goal-directed, her mind was running at full speed, wondering how to get herself out of this mess she had just created.

Nurse Martha shook her head at Rachel's antics but kept her word and remained silent. That, however, did not stop her mind from turning over every possibility of what Rachel could be hiding. The makeup only covered a small area, slightly bigger than a coin. Given her reaction, and how averse she was to most people seeing her back, it was probably some kind of an injury, and she guessed it was most likely a bruise - it wasn't raised like a welt would be, and Rachel wouldn't have been able to cover up a cut or abrasion quite so well. The makeup was actually quite well done. Most people wouldn't have picked up on this, she was only able to notice it only because of her years of working experience as a wound dressings nurse, working with skin, cuts, and scars everyday. It was a skill that sometimes annoyed her because when she watched movies, she could often tell quite easily whether a scar or injury was real or from makeup and it spoiled her enjoyment of the show, but today she was glad for it.

Maybe it was just a simple accidental bruise that Rachel wanted to cover up but she couldn't take that chance. Moreover, Rachel's exaggerated and almost panicked response told her that it was from something more significant than a mere bump against some furniture. She had to find out its origin for sure.

**A/N. I deliberately glossed over the medical aspects of Rachel's care with the dietician and the developmental paediatrician. I could have gone into more details but chose not to, because I didn't want this to turn into a case report on "Multi-disciplinary approach to management of children suffering from long-term physical and emotional abuse". Hope the brief summary and fast skip over those parts wasn't too weird.**


	34. Persuasion

NZgleek91 – Thanks. I hoped it would (:

BellaDora Soulmates – Yeah, she is. Nothing bad will happen because of the bruise, I just wanted to use this small incident to bring out certain aspects of the relationship between Shelby and Rachel (:

Em – This chapter is all Rachel again, but the Quinn will return in the next chapter.

LindsayGlitters – Thanks (: I hope my writing will measure up to your trust.

Comegetit – Whoa. I didn't think my chapters were _that _short – recently, they're almost always more than 3000 words long – but I do concede that there are other writers who write far longer chapters than I do. If you like longer chapters, I highly recommend "Open Wounds" by beaner008. However, as a writer of a rather short story yourself, I hope you can understand that sometimes, chapters just have a natural end, maybe it's just the way I write. If the short chapters really truly very bother you, you might want to only check for updates once a month, which means you would read a few chapters (= one long chapter) at one go. Otherwise, I'm not sure how exactly to help you, since I think I did ask around once, and most of my readers prefer shorter but more frequent updates.

SA03 – Things will get cleared up in this chapter, at least with Nurse Martha. The miscommunication and misunderstanding between Shelby and Rachel, however, will continue for a while yet, with unlikely people stepping in to help them.

Anon – I've decided on it already, actually, but whew, it's a long way ahead. It makes sense, I suppose, Quinn still has much healing to go through.

GreenLemons – I actually wrote it just to show that Dr Andy is sensitive to Quinn's circumstances and wasn't going to force an examination on her, heh. Nurse Martha was more for Rachel's benefit, because she doesn't have any friends to interact with, unlike Quinn who has Santana. If you remember, Nurse Martha was also the one who chased the medical students away for Rachel (Chapter 9), even though Rachel hadn't made a big deal about them then because she's much too used to whispering and bullying. As for Sue, I'll have to write her very carefully, but no she won't be as mean as she was in the show.

Guest – Exactly, but Rachel doesn't know that. She doesn't even realize how wrong her fathers' punishments had been, their arrest on child abuse charges still confuses her, and she has very little faith in the system now.

shiniso – It has come to me, actually, but you'll have to wait quite a long while to see it, heh. Sorry to hear you missed Quinn, she'll be back next chapter (:

Renata – I'm not going to do an in-depth psychological analysis like a psychiatrist would, mainly because I think too much of this story is happening in the hospital, and I want to see the girls at home, in Glee, at school, etc. The rest of my life is far too medical already, haha. Therefore, I'll just continue down this path, showing through the eyes of Rachel and others around her, how her words, actions, personality and interactions with others have all been affected by her childhood abuse, and how she changes as she adjusts to her new safe living environment. In other words, I won't really show the therapy sessions, but rather how therapy as well as the love of those around her helps her to recover.

JWilson18 – Yup, she doesn't realize it, which is what's so sadly ironic. I promise Shelby will emerge unscathed, I hope this chapter puts to rest your concern for her (:

CarmellaD'Winter – Rachel's bruise is as tiny as I described (thumb-sized). I wanted to show how the only people blowing it out of proportion are Rachel and Shelby themselves, once the explanations come out, Nurse Martha and Sharon aren't going to make a big deal of it.

Shana – Thanks, that was my aim. Nurse Martha is a level headed woman who won't jump to conclusions; I hope the way she handled the situation in this chapter satisfies you (:

lemon-rind – Thanks. My life is too medical as it is, fanfiction writing is meant to be an escape from that, haha. By the way, did you guys even understand Dr Andy's medicalspeak in Chapter 8? I wonder if it's truly possible to learn Medicine via fanfiction, lol. Rachel is still very unsure as to where she stands with Shelby, and you're right, it's like she's holding her breath in case she runs out of oxygen – except the lack of oxygen impairs brain function and therefore judgement, and her insecurities merely confuse her and blind her to how much her mom loves her and how secure how placement with Shelby is.

Emy – Thanks! I think I've figured it out, hope you'll like it when I get around to it many chapters from now, heh.

Hucks – No worries, I put the A/Ns in bold (different font) precisely because I realize not everyone wants to read them and they should be able to easily scroll past the bold and just get to the story. Your reason for skipping the ANs (being too engrossed) boosts my ego, haha. Thank you. I guess I'm a diplomatic sort of person who likes to look at things from all perspectives and hope to help my readers do the same as well (:

Rini – I don't know if I'll be describing the psychiatry sessions in detail, but the both of them will definitely have to undergo therapy. I guess I'm opposite to you, I don't really like the medical chapters, haha. As for things with Nurse Martha, it is only Rachel and Shelby that are blowing things out of proportion, Martha and Sharon are both level-headed and experienced, and will see the molehill for what it really is (:

monprincess – Thanks, I try my best (:

Guest – Thanks. Shelby will love Quinn, but what she'll struggle with would be juggling the two girls in her crazy household (remember she just moved to Lima?) She won't struggle for too long in terms of story time, but I hope I can write the post-rescue chapter more succinctly. And you're right, Quinn needs to love as much as be loved :)

Guest – Thanks for pointing it out to me, I've fixed it. To explain how it happened, I frequently reread chapters of my story as well, to ensure continuity of the events and the characters, and when I spot errors, I go back and change it. I must have clicked the wrong number when I was replacing the chapters, hence the error. I'm thankful you spotted the error when rereading it (:

Guest – Wow, you're welcome, that's really good to hear. Don't stop at just realizing it – do something about it, do something for them :D

Chapter 32. Persuasion

"How have you and Rachel been since the last time we met?"

"We're doing good," Shelby replied, sitting up straighter and trying to exude the same kind of confidence that 'Coach Corcoran' often did. 'Coach Corcoran' was her stronger, more self-assured alter-ego she always fell back on when she was unsure of herself. Despite her many failings and mistakes thus far, she was convinced that they were making some progress, and she was still the best possible placement for her daughter.

Sharon smiled, well aware of what Shelby was doing. "Don't worry, I'm not trying to find a reason to take you away from her. From what I can see from the medical reports from her appointments this past week as well as today, she seems to be doing remarkably well under your care. Dr Lopez even added a note that he thinks she's becoming more comfortable with you and you're good for her emotional health, and trust me, doctors normally don't say - or even notice - things like that. With them, it's almost always all Medicine and nothing else."

"Really? He said that?" Shelby asked breaking into a smile and relaxing a little. "I guess so. We've had some hiccups and some difficult conversations... I suppose most people would feel that these conversations indicate some kind of progress but they're also really draining and I never know if I'm saying what she needs to hear. The more I find out about Rachel's home life, the angrier I get, and the more times she repeats her confusion at how I treat her differently from her fathers, the more I wonder if I'm saying the right things to convince her otherwise."

"Can you give me an example?"

"Like just now, at the dietician's office, he asked her to describe in detail her eating habits, both in the past and now. She did, and it was _horrible_, sitting there listening to her talk about the meager portions she used to eat because they said she was "fat", and how they made sure she "earned" her food with good behavior and results, because she didn't "deserve" to eat if she was bad. Sometimes, as punishment, she would be made to go without food for a few days! And it was like she believed every word they told her, believed she was fat and needed to watch her diet, believed that _days_ of starvation were warranted and entirely her fault because she kept making mistakes. I had guessed most of this from living with her this past week but it was still appalling to watch her sit there and say all these to the dietician like it was the most normal thing in the world."

"And that wasn't even the worst part. What was even worse than her justifying of her fathers' actions was hearing her amazement at how she gets fed three meals now, her thankfulness that she doesn't go hungry anymore now. It's like _I'm_ the weird one for feeding her and her fathers were normal for using food and the restriction of food as some warped system of reward and punishment as though she was some kind of _circus animal_ rather than their daughter. I'm pretty sure the right to eat when you're hungry is in the UN's list of basic children's rights somewhere, it's what she ought to _expect_ from me, not something she should be _surprised_ by or _thankful_ for."

Shelby paused to catch her breath. Somewhere in the middle of her ramble, she realized she was unloading on the social worker, but she couldn't help herself. She was normally in control of herself, of her own emotions, but this past week had thrown her off balance. She hadn't had anyone to speak to all week, she hadn't even had the stage to sing out her sorrows on this past week, and Sharon, at the very least, was someone who knew about Rachel's situation and therefore, someone she could talk to about Rachel without giving away any more of her daughter's secrets. It felt good too, to finally put into words all these bottled up feelings that she had had to keep inside her all week.

She hoped that in the nurse's office, Nurse Martha would be able to get Rachel to talk too. She knew the two of them had gotten close during Rachel's hospital stay and the subsequent clinic visits to change her dressings every other day. The matronly nurse obviously cared very much for her daughter, and Shelby trusted her to give Rachel sensible motherly advice. She was good for her.

Sharon smiled. Shelby obviously cared very much about Rachel, not just about her physical needs but also about her mental health and emotional well-being. At least that was one placement she had gotten right. Even if Shelby refused her request later, she had needed this reassurance of at having at least helped one abused child to find a good home, especially after all the rejections she had received in the past 24 hours with regard to Quinn's placement.

"Well, according to the dietician, she's gained 3 pounds this past week, even though you say she's still getting used to eating regularly. That has got to be your doing, right?"

"I guess." She guiltily recalled how on Monday, Rachel had forced herself to eat until she puked that first night, because she hadn't wanted to disobey her mom's instructions to finish her dinner. At least now, Rachel was feeling more comfortable with telling her when she was already full.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Sharon advised. "She's clearly healing up quite well and that's probably thanks to you too."

"_Physically_," Shelby muttered under her breath but Sharon heard her anyway.

"What do you mean?"

"She's still very insecure, and not just about the food either. Just yesterday, I slipped and fell on the floor, and she thought I was going to take "revenge" on her by hitting her." She paused. "'Revenge' is her word, by the way, not mine."

Sharon blinked. "How does you slipping on the floor have anything to do with her?"

"She was mopping the floor while I was out. I didn't tell her to, I told her to rest in her room but she wanted to help out with the chores. She knew I wouldn't approve, so she waited till I was out running some errands before she started mopping. I came home earlier than she expected, and the floor was still wet because she was just finishing up with the living room, and I slipped and fell. She thought I was going to punish her because she wasn't "fast enough" and when I reminded her that I hadn't even asked her to mop the floor in the first place, she thought I was going to punish her for her disobedience too."

"How did you resolve it?"

"I didn't hit her, if that's what you're asking. We talked and I assigned her an essay to hear her views on appropriate punishments, an essay she has already submitted to me, and I intend to discuss it with her tonight. Then I cleaned her up because she was all sweaty from mopping the floor. By the time we were done, it was late, so I ordered in pizza and we watched a movie together."

"I see. So it went quite well, I suppose? Did she accept it when you told her you weren't going to hit her?" There was something Shelby wasn't quite telling her here.

"Not really but eventually yes..." Shelby caught the suspicious look in Sharon's eyes and decided it was best to be honest. "In the interests of full disclosure, I did accidentally hurt Rachel."

Sharon narrowed her eyes at her, and Shelby rushed to explain further. "When I fell, Rachel ran over to me, apologising profusely. She knelt in front of me and placed her hands behind her head. She later explained to me that her fathers usually "allowed" her to do that so she would be better able to keep her hands out of the way when being hit. I didn't know that then, but I knew she was "positioning herself properly for punishment", expecting me to hit her. I was so upset that I grabbed her arm to pull it down to try to get her to move out of that ridiculous posture, but I must have grabbed her too hard… This morning there's still a bruise on her arm from where my thumb gripped her too tightly. It isn't very big and she claims it isn't painful but I wonder if that even means anything, coming from her. I apologised to her and applied ointment on it for her this morning but for some reason, she insisted on covering it up with makeup. You won't see it when you speak to her later, but it's there."

Shelby eyed Sharon, hoping that her honesty would not get her into any trouble.

"I'm telling you because I don't want to hide anything from you, even though I'm thinking Rachel probably covered it up because she doesn't want anyone to know what happened. I was upset and I didn't mean to hurt her on purpose, but I know it's bad enough that after all her fathers did to her, I still hurt her, grabbed her hard enough to leave a bruise. I was just so upset that she would think I want to hurt her over something as stupid as this, that I went and proved her right by hurting her all the same..." Shelby sighed. "I just don't know what to do with her anymore."

Sharon nodded as she listened quietly.

"I don't think it's quite the same thing," she spoke, when Shelby was done. "You didn't hurt her on purpose, and you apologised afterwards, explained to her that it was wrong of you to have hurt her. And of course, you were brave enough to be honest with me about what happened. That makes it _very different_ from what her fathers did to her. Although of course I hope it doesn't happen again."

Shelby nodded, feeling a small amount of relief start to seep in. "It won't, I'll watch myself more closely, I promise."

Sharon smiled. "That's good. And it still doesn't change my mind that you're a good mother to Rachel. Like you said, there'll be some hiccups initially, but what's more important to me is that you clearly care a lot for her, both physically and emotionally, and have no wish to hurt her. Her injuries might be healing well but it would take much longer for her to recover from the psychological damage she has suffered, and I think you're the right person to best help her."

"I guess," Shelby replied unconvincingly. Rachel deserved a whole lot more than just someone she did not wish to hurt her, and she vowed to do better. Shaking her head to get out of her thoughts, she turned to Sharon, who appeared to be deep in thought as well. "So what was it that you wished to ask me about just now?"

...

When Nurse Martha was done, Rachel hurriedly fixed her clothes. She tried pulling on her shirt sleeve to cover up the bruise but it was no use, the sleeve was too short. She had selected this shirt to wear today because it was easier to loosen and roll up than a sweater, but she was starting to regret her choice very badly.

"How did you get the bruise?" Martha asked as gently as she could, when the girl was done putting on her clothes.

"What?" Rachel exclaimed, spinning around. "I didn't say there was any bruise, how did you know it was there?"

'Bingo!' thought Martha although she felt little pleasure in being proven right. "I'm a nurse, I know it's there. Was it your mom who asked you to cover it up?"

"No! I covered it up myself, she didn't ask me to do that."

Her words rang truer to Nurse Martha this time, and if she was indeed telling the truth, that would be a little more reassuring. However, circumstantial evidence was not enough, she needed to be sure.

"Well, since I already know it's there, there's no point in hiding it from me any further, so why don't you show it to me, let me see if I can help you apply some ointment on it?"

Rachel shook her head stubbornly, slightly indignant that the nurse had tricked her into admitting to the bruise so easily. "My mom already applied _a lot_ of ointment on it, I don't need any more of it. I'm fine."

"She did, huh? Did you tell her how you got the bruise?"

"She knows, she was the one who... Ugh!" She wanted to cry, this was stupid, why was the normally kind nurse trying to dig all these answers out of her?

"It's just a stupid minuscule little bruise, I can't even _feel_ it, why is _everyone_ kicking up such a big fuss over it!" she exclaimed, infuriated.

"Everyone?"

"My mom too, she saw it this morning and she totally flipped out and got really upset. She kept apologising over and over again, and she rubbed a whole lot of ointment on it too, even though I kept telling her it was nothing. It really truly wasn't her fault _at all_. It was mine."

"Hmm." Rachel's insistence that this was her own fault brought up memories of their first dressings change, how Rachel had explained that she had deserved the beatings because she was bad. And what about Shelby's reaction to it? Was that guilt causing her to over-compensate or was it truly incidental?

"Why don't you tell me what happened from the beginning?"

"I'm not going to get out of this, am I?" Rachel asked, squirming uncomfortably.

"Nope. Please talk to me, I'm just trying to help you."

"You can't tell CPS if I tell you. You can't tell my mom as well."

"I won't anyone if it's truly accidental. I promise."

Rachel nodded at last. "I disobeyed my mom yesterday and thought she was going to punish me so I knelt down and put my hands behind my head like my fathers would have wanted me to. But she got really upset instead. She grabbed my arm to tell me to get up but I resisted, because I didn't know what she was doing, and it was such an odd thing for her to do when she should instead be hitting me… that's why there's this tiny tiny bruise."

She chanced a glance at Nurse Martha, and was glad to see her nod in understanding.

"It's nothing, it'll probably be gone by tomorrow even," she continued. "But she saw it this morning and she got so worried, you would have thought it was life-threatening or something. She really cares a lot for me, and was so upset and sorry when she saw the bruise... I promise you, she didn't mean to hurt me, not that this even hurts at all. It was my fault in the first place anyway, for resisting her, when all she wanted to do was tell me I wasn't going to be punished."

"I see... So if she didn't tell you to cover it up, why did you?"

"Because she looked really upset all through breakfast every time she saw it, and I didn't want her to have to see it and keep feeling upset all day. It's small but it would take at least a few days for it to fade away and this really wasn't her fault. She's been really lenient with me, and she didn't hit me last night, she didn't even slap me, even though that wouldn't have left any marks and she had every right to punish me… Please, you have to believe me. She's the kindest, gentlest, nicest, most lenient mom in the world and she didn't mean to grab me hard enough to leave a bruise and she's really really sorry…"

"Alright, no need to look at me like that, I believe you. May I clean off the makeup and have a look at it?"

Rachel nodded and surrendered her arm to the nurse. A few quick swipes of an alcohol swab was all it took to remove the makeup.

"You're right, it is minor. And you say your mom was really upset? She probably didn't want to remind you of your fathers... I'm just curious though, how did you disobey her? Why did you think she was going to hit you?"

"I mopped the floor."

"You what?" Nurse Martha asked, the corner of her mouth quirking up into a quizzical smile.

"I know, she's already lectured me about that. I know I was supposed to be resting in my room since I'm still on activity restriction. But she's really had _a lot_ of housework to do what with moving into the new house and all, and when I swept the floor the day before, she had the time to teach me how to cook dinner, and I really enjoyed it, so I thought maybe if I mopped the floor, we could cook together again. But I wasn't fast enough, I didn't dry the floor in time before she came home, and she slipped and fell..."

Martha couldn't help but laugh despite Rachel's very serious tone of voice, and her very solemn face scowling childishly at her.

She tried her best to stifle her laughter but couldn't quite manage to stop smiling. "I'm sorry for laughing at you, but this is just the first time I've heard of a teenager disobeying her mom by doing housework when she's supposed to be hanging out in her room."

Rachel pouted a little but she was honestly really relieved that Nurse Martha was finding this whole thing funny instead of getting upset like her mom had. See? She had been right, it _was_ just a stupid little bruise. Her mom had nothing to worry about.

"Actually, I also burst a blister yesterday from moving around too much when mopping the floor. My mom was quite upset about that too, I guess, especially since she had repeatedly told me throughout the week to look after myself and had been taking such good care of me as well... But she didn't punish me for that either, and just put on a plaster on it. She just said that if you said I couldn't change to the waterproof dressings today, it'd be my own fault and I had to learn that actions have their natural consequences."

_Shelby's learning pretty fast_, Martha thought with a smile. It was only when she became a mother that she really realized how frequently her own mother had used this technique on her too - Using and exaggerating little insignificant mistakes to teach her important lessons so that she would avoid making bigger mistakes in future. There was no way one single burst blister would have changed Rachel's treatment plan, but it was enough that Rachel thought so. Hopefully, Rachel would learn to take better care of herself in future and give her mom less grief.

From Shelby's point of view, she had probably felt bad that Rachel had hurt herself trying to help Shelby with the chores, and Nurse Martha felt quite sorry for what Shelby had to deal with. Rachel's injuries might be healing quite well, but it would probably take Shelby a much longer time to convince Rachel that she was now safe from brutal punishments and that she didn't need to do household chores in order to "earn" spend time with her mother or gain her mother's approval.

"Your mom's right, and she's a smart woman. You should listen to her more often."

Rachel nodded. "But the blister was all healed again this morning and I didn't even need the plaster anymore, so I can still use the waterproof dressings and shower on my own today, right?"

Nurse Martha pretended to consider for a moment and laughed when Rachel pouted once more. "I think I'll give you a free pass this time," she told her jokingly, ruffling her hair a little. The girl was just too easy to tease.

Rachel beamed at her. "Thank you!"

"Although you've got to listen to you mom and to your doctors and make sure you rest your body, alright? Mind you, you're still on activity restriction."

"Only until this Thursday," Rachel commented.

"Uh-huh, but your body isn't going to magically recover at 12 midnight on Thursday, you still have to feed it well, rest it, and respect your own limits, in order to continue healing well. If you push yourself too hard too quickly, you can still hurt yourself all over again and end up back here. Don't worry your mum unnecessarily."

Rachel blinked. She hadn't thought about it that way before, that her hurting herself could have worried her mom. Her fathers always just trusted that she could take care of herself and heal fine on her own, but her mom was different. She worried about little things like that. After all the help her mom had given her, ferrying her to the hospital, wiping her down everyday and applying ointment for her, it would be irresponsible for her to negate all that by getting herself injured again.

"Yes, ma'am," Rachel agreed, chastened.

"Good girl." Nurse Martha smiled. "I'm really going to miss you… May I hug you?" she asked, stretching out her hands to Rachel, who fell easily into her embrace.

"I'm going to miss you too, ma'am. Thank you for everything."

"I was just doing my job, and you've been a wonderful patient. I know I told you I didn't want to see you here anymore after today, and I do hope you'll keep yourself safe and out of trouble, but if you ever hurt yourself, you know you can always come find me here, right?"

"Really?" Rachel asked. "Don't I have to register at the counter and pay the bills downstairs?"

"Ideally, yes, but if you're alone or don't have the money, it doesn't matter. Just come up here and ask Sarah at the registration counter if I'm around. Or call me on my cellphone, you have my number, right? I'll come here and fix you right up, I'm sure no one will miss a few bandages or alcohol swabs."

She had thought about it the whole of last night. Usually, she was glad to be able to discharge patients, especially if they had made as good a recovery as Rachel had, but not in this case. She had been surprised to find out from her colleagues that the mother whom Rachel was now in the care of, was also the mother who had abandoned her at birth. She was worried for Rachel, afraid that the obedient girl who seemed to expect and accept pain and punishment as completely normal and acceptable behaviour from a parent, would meet with abuse in her new home as well. God knows the submissive child would never complain about it to anyone either, she was stoic beyond reason, really.

At least when Rachel was coming back to see her every other day, she could comfort herself that she would be able to spot any new injuries or signs of abuse from Shelby but this was her last follow-up visit. The disquieting thought of not knowing what would became of her favourite patient had kept her up all night, and she had decided that this was the very least she could do for her.

"Thank you, ma'am," Rachel replied, the huge smile on her face reflecting the glowing warmth in her heart. She knew she couldn't and wouldn't take the kind nurse up on her offer. When her mom started to punish her, it would be defiant and disobedient to run to the nurse for help, even worse than her taking some of the painkillers she had stashed away. It wasn't just defiant. Even if the nurse's skills would help her to recover so much faster, Nurse Martha could get into trouble and more importantly, she knew her mom could get into trouble like her fathers had. She had already lost two parents, she wasn't going to risk losing her last one. Still, it was a generous offer all the same, and a very kind one too - no one had ever said anything so compassionate and altruistic to her before. She would really miss the kind nurse and her gentle ministrations.

When Nurse Martha finally released her, she moved to remove her makeup materials from her bag. "I'm going to cover it back up," she informed the nurse.

"Why?" Martha asked, honestly curious. "Your mom didn't say you needed to, and I don't think she really wants you to either."

"Because I don't want my mom to feel sad. She looked really sad every time she saw it. Please?"

"Alright," Martha relented. She supposed it couldn't hurt.

In a few short minutes, everything was as it had been before. Nurse Martha led Rachel back upstairs with a smile on her face, having put to rest most of her many fears. She truly hoped that Rachel would be happy with Shelby and wouldn't be visiting her any time soon.

...

Sharon shook her head. She had been wrong after all, Shelby already had her hands full with Rachel, especially if Rachel was still confused and expecting to be punished. Now was definitely not the time to place another abused and traumatized girl with her, having Quinn in the house would probably just overwhelm her – she was a new mother, still adjusting to living with _one_ abused child.

"Just spit it out," Shelby urged impatiently, resisting the urge to drum her fingers against the table. "Rachel should be next door at the psychiatrist's office around now and I have to see Dr Janet after that as well. Whatever it is, I'll just say no if I can't do it but I can't give you a reply if you don't tell me what it is."

"Okay, I'll just be direct then. There's this girl whose placement I've been having some problems with. She's 16, and has suffered physical, emotional and sexual abuse for at least the past year, by both her parents. More recently, her father raped her last night. She's also pregnant, presumably by her boyfriend."

Sharon looked across the table. Shelby was leaning forward and listening quietly, and her only visible response was a slight frown. She took the absence of any reactions of disgust as a good sign, and continued talking.

"I thought you could take her in temporarily. Her father is some self-entitled bigwig who has somehow managed to threaten all my foster families into refusing to take her in. Apparently, everyone has something that they can't afford for this guy to take away, or knows someone who's in such a situation, and I understand too, that it's unfair for them or their loved ones to have to suffer adverse consequences by taking Quinn in. Which is why I initially thought of you, since you're new to the area and self-employed and work from home, and also have no other family living around here. But after what I've heard about your struggles with Rachel, I understand it would be unfair for me to burden you with this other girl, or for Rachel's care to be compromised because you're overwhelmed by having to look after the both of them."

"What did you mean by 'temporarily'?

"I meant I was hoping you could just take her in for a few days until I'm able to find more permanent placement for her."

"Why can't she just stay in the hospital? She could have a single room like Rachel had, and I'm sure the nurses here are more than capable of taking care of her.

"The problem is she knows she's fit for discharge and she knows that it's her father who has been blocking her placements and that has made her feel quite upset and unwanted. Normally, I would place such a child in a group home until a more permanent placement can be found, but I'm loath to do that in this case because I think she needs closer attention than that, given what she's just gone through. Besides, most group homes have a foster father as well as mother, and also houses children of both gender, and with her history of sexual abuse, I don't think she would feel safe or comfortable there. I know you already have Rachel and I would never ask you to prioritise another child over your own daughter but if you could take her in for a few days - like a group home would -, until I can figure out a more permanent placement for her, that would be great. But if Rachel is taking up all your time and you have to say no, then I completely understand as well and won't hold it against you."

Shelby nodded, listening closely. She could see why Sharon had expected her to say no, and it had been on the tip of her tongue to refuse too, but something stopped her. This girl had been sexually abused - raped by her own father, and she knew that changed things a lot. The hospital was definitely not the best place for her to be in.

If this had been Rachel...

Shelby sighed. She recalled Rachel's pelvic examination that had taken place in this very hospital, the agonizing minutes holding Rachel's hand while the doctor had checked her little girl down under, the tears of relief she had shed when he informed her of the negative result, and later, the guilt that she had felt at having "forced" Rachel to undergo such a terrible examination that had proven unnecessary.

She was fortunate enough that Rachel's fathers had not raped her, but given all the other atrocities they had already done to her, they very well could have. If Rachel had been like this girl, if she hadn't left her number as an emergency contact all those years ago… There were so many 'if's, but she hoped that if Rachel had been in such a situation, she would not have been left to feel unwanted and alone in the hospital, that a good Samaritan would have stepped up to look after her daughter and give her a good home to stay in, even if it was just a few days until they managed to contact her.

"I have to ask. Is she like Rachel as well? I mean, from what you're telling me, it seems like although all these has been going on for a long time, she continued to stay with her parents. Does she accept the abuse and the rape as "normal", does she think she deserved all that too?"

Maybe it was Rachel's brainwashed behaviour – convinced that it was her responsibility to do all of Shelby's chores and be her personal punching bag – that was causing her to think of the worst possible scenario, but she had to be sure. She did not consider herself to be naive or innocent, but a girl who had been brought up to think that it was her duty to give her parents sexual pleasure might be too much for her to handle.

"No, she isn't," Sharon reassured her. "In fact, she was the one who reported her parents. That doesn't mean she isn't psychologically traumatized, of course, she definitely is in her own way, just different from Rachel. She is very angry and suspicious, and is constantly trying to push people away, antagonizing them and challenge their intentions. I'm not sure why she stayed on in that house for so long, but she does know it was wrong and she doesn't accept it like Rachel did."

"I see. That's good, I guess." If the word 'good' could in any way be used to describe something as horrific as child abuse, and sexual abuse at that.

But at the moment, she was already thinking ahead to possible problems, and her warped mind had jumped immediately to the worst possible scenario. She recalled how at the smallest perceived error, Rachel would fall to her knees and expect to be hit, and if this girl was like Rachel except that she expected to be punished _sexually_...

_God, no. _

And yes, she did realize that the very fact that she was actually troubleshooting potential problems she might face when looking after this girl meant that in her mind, she had already agreed. It was just a few days, right? How hard could it be?

"I guess I owe you one anyway, for helping me with the move. I wouldn't have been able to get a house so quickly if it wasn't for your help, and we'd probably still be living in a motel."

Sharon shook her head. "You don't owe me anything, I was just doing my job. I don't want you to decide to do this just because you feel you owe it to me. It won't be good for you or for her."

"That's not my only reason." She sighed. "If this was Rachel and somehow I wasn't contacted or could not fly back in time, I would have hoped that someone would have done the same for her too. I guess this is my way of paying back to the system too."

"I want to take her in and I would treat her the same as I do Rachel but I'll need to speak to Rachel first. She needs to be comfortable with this before I agree to it. And even after I take her in, even though I'll try my best to be fair to the both of them, you do realize that Rachel will always come first to me, right? She's my real daughter, and she needs me too. If she's not comfortable with this, or if she feels neglected in any way… If I can't give them both the care they need, Rachel's needs would always take precedence. It wouldn't be fair to this other girl either."

"Of course. I do trust you to do your best for this girl, given this un-ideal situation I'm placing you in, but I wouldn't expect any less. Rachel is my client too. If you're too overwhelmed, it wouldn't be good for either girl. Thank you for doing this, I really appreciate it, especially since I know you're still adjusting to being Rachel's mother and you never intended to be a foster parent for other children in the first place. Even if it doesn't work out, at the very least, it will buy me some time to find her a more permanent placement."

...

Rachel stood alone outside the psychiatrist's office, waiting for the previous patient to come out so she could enter. She had reassured Nurse Martha that she was fine waiting on her own, so Nurse Martha had gone ahead to the wards so she could tend to her patients there.

She glanced anxiously at the next door - Room 19. She knew she shouldn't move away, the receptionist had said she was next but her mother and her social worker were talking in that room, probably about her again, and this time, there were no IV lines preventing her from moving closer to listen to their conversation. But it was just the next room and it was so tempting to just sneak over and listen in on their conversation.

Luck was on her side too. The door to the room was not fully closed. The receptionist looked like she was preoccupied with her paperwork as well, and there was a water fountain situated strategically beside the Room 19 door. She could do it. If they were talking about her, or about her fathers and the result of their charges, she wanted to know. After all, she was the only thing they had in common, what else could they be talking about? And whatever they were saying about her, she needed to know, so she could be prepared. It was her life they were most likely discussing after all.

She walked over to the water fountain as casually as possible and picked up a paper cup to use as a prop. Bending forward to fill the cup, she leaned towards the door as her cup was being filled.

"...I just don't know what to do with her anymore."

What? Was her mom referring to her? She was so distracted that she only realized her cup was full to the brim when the water started overflowing onto her hand. She switched off the water hurriedly and dried her hands, before leaning against the wall closest to the crack in the door and listened more closely. She needed to hear more.

It was Sharon's voice this time.

"…There's this girl whose placement I've been having some problems with. She's 16, and has suffered physical, emotional and sexual abuse for at least the past year. More recently, her father raped her last night. She's also pregnant, presumably by her boyfriend. (A pause.) I thought you could take her in..."

"Ms Rachel Berry? Dr Janet will see you now," the receptionist spoke, interrupting her eavesdropping.

She nodded her assent and threw her cup of water into the rubbish bin before walking into the psychiatrist's office. Outwardly, she remained calm, but inside, she was a huge mess.

_Was her mother really going to trade her in for this other girl?_


	35. Visitors

NZgleek91 – Again, that wasn't meant to be a cliffhanger. Oops? Sorry, this chapter actually doesn't continue from that point, it's mainly from Quinn's perspective, we'll return to Rachel in the next chapter. Then again, while Rachel is understandably confused, I'm quite sure _you_ know Shelby would _never_ trade Rachel in, right? Please don't hate me, haha.

JWilson18 – Yes, they will. I'm glad you like where this is going (:

Anon – Yep! Poor Shelby too, I'm thinking.

Guest – Yup, you got that right. Yay, someone realized it. And Rachel will find out mystery girl's identity soon, so… :D

CaitlinSeu – Hmm. Just because the characters think it's temporary doesn't mean it won't be permanent… I still make the final decisions, haha XD

SA03 – Sharon doesn't know, only Dr Lopez and the police know. Patient confidentiality rules forbids him from telling others even if he wanted to. As for Rachel, she does trust people – she trusted her fathers too much, hence their current predicament. Hopefully, Shelby's honesty can continue to keep her out of trouble. As for Nurse Martha, that's not the last we'll see of her. I really like her and Rachel too.

sunfire1134 - Haha, the Rachel drama continues in the next chapter but it won't get resolved for a few more... Sorry! Hope your heart can take the suspense.

iceygaze - Haha, nope I can't help it. If I can include a few more themes, drama and angst would definitely be the next two. And as for Quinn and Rachel, they will find their happiness with each other, but only as sisters (so glad I can finally say that now!) and as friends, not as lovers.

GreenLemons - Rachel does have a penchant for the dramatic, doesn't she? :P Hope Sue's reappearance in this chapter satisfies you (:

Shana - I think her eavesdropping is due to residual resentment about the adults in her life making important decisions for her - remember when she was in the hospital and Dr Lopez was talking to Shelby instead of to her? That's where the IV drip comment came from. And how the school nurse didn't listen to her denials of the abuse and reported her fathers to CPS, thus taking them away from her. But everything will get resolved as it always does – Shelby will either figure it out or things will blow up eventually, and with every conflict and misunderstanding that happens, hopefully Rachel will learn something and heal a little more.

Renata - Yes, I wanted both Shelby and Rachel to tell their own version of the story about the bruise to Sharon and Nurse Martha respectively, to show 1) their different perspective, and 2) how much they care for each other.

Rini - I hope it's permanent too, and I'm glad you like the idea of Rachel and Quinn living together with Shelby (:

CarmellaD'Winter - Haha, tell that to Rachel, she's just so confused and so desperate to know what's going on and what the adults in her life are going to do with her and to her fathers. They'll both get the emotional support they need, but I'm not sure if I'll be writing out a scene with her psychiatrist. Psychiatry (unlike brain bleeds, haha) is definitely not my strong suit and while I'm fine with legal inaccuracies, I don't want to misrepresent an entire medical specialty, heh.

monprincess – Yup, _again_. XD

lemon-rind – She hasn't acted on anything, but I guess she just wants to _know_ what's going to happen to her – which I feel is reasonable, given that her world has pretty much been turned upside down this past week. Her confusion is compounded by the fact that to her, nothing significant really happened to warrant everyone's "drastic" reactions. But yeah, the problem with eavesdropping is you won't ever get all the info :/

Emy – Haha, yeah she does seem to do that. I don't think the appointment with the psychiatrist will do much to help this specific situation… Things will stay confusing for her for sometime yet. Yes, Shelby is one amazing lady, but she's also inexperienced and emotionally vulnerable – she's not going to be Super Mom, but she's sure going to try her best to get there (: Glad to hear you're "completely sold on the idea now" :D Yes, things will get interesting soon, with Rachel suddenly knowing so much about this girl whom she'll eventually realize is Quinn!

Guest – If only she knew that! ):

Guest – Haha, yes she is. I wanted to keep some of the canon character's personalities, that's why Rachel is still annoying and Quinn is still a bitch, but I'm glad you get why she's this way. Shelby doesn't know about the eavesdropping yet, but you know what? I think when she finds out, she just might assign that essay to Rachel. XP

Chapter 33. Visitors

"Hi, I'm Nurse Martha, the wounds dressing nurse. You must be Quinn."

Quinn sighed as she looked up. "Yes. Hi."

"Dr Andy asked me to check up on you. Did he tell you I was coming?"

Quinn nodded. "He did." That didn't mean she had been looking forward to this, though.

"How are you feeling now?"

Quinn sighed. Yet another question she was really tired of hearing. She should just put up a sign on that says, 'Stop asking me how I am. I'm **FINE**.' Maybe then these hospital staff would stop waltzing in and out of her room asking all these stupid questions.

"You're the wounds dressing nurse, right? You just said so yourself. Aren't you supposed to be here to look at my wounds then, and not asking me a series of useless questions?"

The nurse, however, didn't get angry as she had hoped she would.

"Actually, it's my job to do them both," she replied, the smile on her face never wavering.

Ugh! All this smiling was getting on her nerves. It was patronizing and annoying. Smiling at her when she was rude to them was like telling her that she was a small, injured kid that needed to be coddled and pampered, to be handled with kid gloves, to be allowed to throw a tantrum because she was such a poor little kid. She wasn't a kid! She was almost an adult, and she was _pregnant_ with a child, for goodness sake. After all that had happened to her, she wasn't a kid anymore, not even close. They shouldn't treat her like a kid.

Nurse Martha smiled. Dr Andy sure hadn't been kidding when he had told her that this particular patient was a little '_difficult_'. His word, not hers. Personally, she would describe this girl as more 'angry' and 'lost'. It was like she was fighting so hard, like she had been fighting on her own against impossible circumstances for far too long, and now that she was safe, she still couldn't stop fighting, except that now had no idea what she was fighting for. Or even, who she was fighting with or against.

Quinn's eyes narrowed at her but she shrugged it off. The girl had the right to be angry at her if she wished to. She was just going to do as best a job as she could. Pulling the curtains together to protect her privacy, she approached Quinn.

"Shall I start examining you then? Could you flip over and lie on your stomach for me, please?"

Quinn gulped. She had just bad-mouthed this nurse and now she was expecting her to flip onto her stomach and assume _that_ position? She wanted to refuse, but she recalled the wrist restraints sitting on the corner table just outside the curtains. That position was bad enough in itself, that position while being _restrained_ would be too much for her to handle. Disobedience wasn't an option here. Besides, this nurse seemed kinder than the last grumpy one. Her smile, at least, still seemed sincere.

_Hopefully, this one would remain nice as long as she didn't hit her as well._

Slowly, she pushed herself into the requested position. Her eyes followed every action of the nurse's hands but all she did was put on a pair of gloves.

"May I undo the back of your gown?"

"I'll do it myself," Quinn replied quickly.

Martha watched as trembling fingers quickly undid the two knots that held the gown together behind her neck and at her waist. The cold draft that swept in caused Quinn to shiver, and she left the two ends of the gown together, not wanting to lose its flimsy protection.

"I'm going to check your shoulders now," Martha told her.

Quinn nodded. "Just get this over and done with quickly please," she mumbled as she lay back down and buried her head into the pillow.

"Of course," Martha agreed as she started the examination.

She started from the top, since she guessed that Quinn would probably be more comfortable with an examination of that area. There was a dark bruise in the shape of a shoe print on her upper back, and she shook her head. Someone, probably her father, had obviously stepped on her with quite some amount of force. Based on her history, it was probably used as a form of restraint while she was struggling, that's why it was so bad. She shook her head disapprovingly, and sighed, knowing there was worse to come.

She showed Quinn a tube of ointment. "I'm going to apply this on your back, it'll help with the bruising." She tried to apply the ointment as gently as she could, but unlike most of her other patients who usually relaxed into the soothing movements after the first minute or so, Quinn stayed tense throughout the application, as though she was physically incapable of relaxing.

When that was done, she replaced the gown over her shoulders. "I'm going to cover up your lower legs with the blanket, then have a look at your lower back down to your thighs. Is that alright?"

This time, Quinn didn't reply. She merely nodded and buried her face in her pillow.

True enough, her lower body was even worse. Crimson welts that were still swollen covered her otherwise pale skin and Martha winced at how much they must still hurt. It was small comfort but at least there were fewer of them on her lower back where the vital organs like her kidneys were. Her bottom and upper thighs, however, were a complete mess of fresh welts as well. Again, she wondered what parent would do this to their own child - or stand aside and do nothing but watch as their spouse hit their own fresh and blood. It was inhumane, that's what it was.

"I usually use aloe vera gel," Quinn offered, just when Martha was feeling slightly thankful that there weren't any old injuries visible.

"This isn't the first time, then?"

"No. It usually heals within a few days... It's never been this bad, though."

"Well, I'm going to use something more potent than just aloe vera, okay? It contains some strong medication that will ease the pain as well as help with the inflammation. I'll also put a couple of plasters on these scratches on your hips, just to cover them up. They don't look infected but we want to make sure they stay that way."

Quinn nodded mutely. It felt awkward discussed this with anyone - she had only ever talked about this with her sister before - but she supposed this nurse was easy enough to talk to. She was friendly too, and while she wasn't dismissive of her injuries, she was also not awkward about them, unlike that intern Dr Andy. There was no judgement or disgust in her voice, just concern. She had no doubt it was just professional concern - she was a wounds dressing nurse after all, but it was still nice to have even that. It was more than her own mother had given her.

She was gentle and efficient too, which Quinn appreciated. Soon, she felt the gown covering up her lower body as well, and the knot tied loosely enough so that the fabric wouldn't press against her inflamed skin. This nurse was considerate towards her too, she supposed. Maybe not all the nurses in this hospital were mean jerks after all. Considering she was probably going to be stay in this hospital for quite some time yet, hopefully most of the nurses were more like her rather than like Grouchy last night.

Then again, in that male nurse's defense, she had hit him first, and he was the authority in this hospital. If someone had dared to hit her in school, when she had still been somewhat of an 'authority', she sure as hell would have done more than threaten them. Probably ordered the football team to beat him up, or at the very least, if she was in a particularly good mood, throw him into a dumpster.

But that was back when she was still Head Cheerio and thus, HBIC in school. Now that she had lost her Cheerios uniform, she no longer had that kind of authority, she thought with a sigh. She was the one who would be thrown into a dumpster if she dared to cross any of the still popular kids.

She was shaken out of her morose thoughts when the nurse spoke up again. "Did the gynecologist who saw you yesterday show you the cream you should use down below?"

_Oh God, seriously?_ She looked warily at Nurse Martha and nodded her head slowly.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to examine you there. As long as you know how to apply it, it's fine." She smiled when Quinn visibly relaxed. "I'm sorry you had to go though that pelvic examination. It must have been pretty awful."

Quinn nodded again, clearly not wishing to talk about any of that.

"Can I take a look at your wrists now?"

Quinn complied, and Martha examined the ligature marks closely.

"I'll also need to bandage up your wrists, these cuts might get infected if left out in the open like this."

"How long will they take to heal? I don't want to go to school with bandages on my wrists."

"I wouldn't advise going to school anytime soon, given that sitting will probably be painful. But with regard to these cuts, they look shallow and should heal in a few days, probably by Wednesday. The welts will mostly have receded by then too, although the bruising will take a little longer and your skin will be tender for a few more days. Don't worry about school, I'm sure your doctor will be willing to give you a letter of excuse from school for as long as you need."

Quinn nodded. She knew that, but she still wanted to return to school as soon as possible. The longer she stayed away, the more digging people would do to find out where she was, especially that nosey creep Jacob, and the more rumours would be spread, speculating on what happened to her. After today, most of the Cheerios would already suspect that something was up anyway, the absence of their Captain from any training would surely pique their curiosity.

It was bad enough that Santana, the Lopezes, and the hospital staff all knew some part of what had happened to her, and the school would surely also be at least informed of her change in guardianship status as well. No one else needed to know anything more about what had once been her private life.

Wednesday sounded good. If she only missed 2 days of school, no one was going to find out anything, right?

"I'll leave the ointments here, and I'll come back later in the evening to help you apply them again, okay?"

"I can do it myself," Quinn protested. "You don't have to come back."

Martha shook her head. What was it with these teenage girls and their insistence on proving their own independence, demanding to do everything on their own? Although she guessed, in this case, Quinn had legitimate reasons to not want to be touched by a stranger anymore than necessary. Even if Quinn had not protested her examination, not once during the examination or the application of ointment had Quinn relaxed to her touch, and Martha thought Quinn might truly find it more comfortable to apply those ointments by herself.

"Alright, I'll still come by this evening anyway, and you can show me how you do it. If I'm convinced you know what to do, can reach everything sufficiently on your own and do a good job as well, then I'll let you do it on your own from now on. Sounds fair?"

Quinn looked at her, surprised that the nurse would agree to that. She nodded quickly, smiling for the first time. "Thank you."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, ma'am."

"Alright, I'll see you later in the evening then. Rest well, dear."

Quinn watched as Nurse Martha left the room. She was nice, almost motherly, and she could grow to like this woman. However, she knew - or hoped - she would leave the hospital soon, and couldn't grow attached to the nurse. Besides, she clearly didn't need her help, this nurse dressed wounds and she didn't have any of those, just a few welts and bruises. She could apply the ointments on her own, she didn't need her help with that. She might not have a nursing degree but she could definitely put on a couple of plasters on her own too.

Her motherliness, if there was even such a word, only served as a reminder that she didn't have a mother anymore, how she maybe never even had a real mother in the first place. And now that she had finally gotten rid of her parents, she had to learn to depend on herself from now on. She couldn't latch onto the first motherly person who came along and imprint herself on her like a baby penguin. She was even going to become a mother herself soon, she would have to learn to take care of not just herself, but her baby too.

...

Quinn glared at the psychiatrist. The name tag on her blouse said "Child psychiatrist". She glared at it some more.

"I'm not a child," she ground out, not hiding any of her annoyance.

"No one said you are. I see patients up to 19 years of age," the psychiatrist explained.

"Whatever, I'm still not going to do art or play therapy or any of that shit."

She smiled again. "I wouldn't expect you to."

"So what are we supposed to do here?"

"We talk."

"I don't want to talk."

"Then we can just sit here in silence for the next hour until you feel like talking. I don't mind, I can wait."

Quinn lay back against the hospital bed. She could play this game. Silence was easy. Except silence brought too many painful memories that made her head want to explode. Not that she actually wanted to _share_ any of those memories with this woman. She just wanted to do something else besides sit here and think. She wished once again that she was at Cheerios practice with Santana and Brittany but she knew she wouldn't even make it through one routine on her current sprained ankle. The painkillers were effective in relieving most of her many aches and pains but her ankle was still weak and felt flimsy. She supposed landing badly from jumping off a tree does that to an ankle.

And there she was, back at those stupid memories again. _Ugh_.

She looked over to the psychiatrist, who was still scribbling away into her file. Her file labeled "Quinn Fabray". She glared at the file, wishing she could see through it and read what the doctor was writing about her. What was there to write anyway? "Patient doesn't want to talk." 5 words. Simple.

Might as well ask.

"What are you writing about me?"

"I'm just documenting what's happening. Unless you wish to talk now? I can definitely write these things down later."

"Well, what _did_ you write? Nothing's happening. We aren't doing anything, there's nothing to write about."

"Just my observations of you, that's all."

"What observations? I'm not doing anything."

"Don't worry about them."

"I'm not crazy."

"I didn't say you are."

"Well, you're sitting in front of me, writing in a file that's labeled with my name, so of course you're writing about me. And you're a psychiatrist, so I'm going to assume you're writing about how crazy I am. But I haven't done anything yet, so you can't say I'm crazy. I'm not, and you can't write that kind of shit in. I'm not crazy."

The psychiatrist nodded. "You've said that, yes."

"I'm not! I don't need a psychiatrist, I'm perfectly sane and fine. I'll stay in this hospital for a couple more days and return to school on Wednesday. I'll go to all my classes and continue to get good grades. I have friends, we have sleepovers together, we were in cheerleading together and we won Nationals last year too. Outside of home, I'm a good student and I had a perfectly normal life… I'm not crazy."

" 'Crazy' isn't a word we like to use. Sometimes, chil- people who have gone through a traumatizing experience may need some help to deal with it and that's where psychiatrists like myself come in. We help you to make sense of what happened and deal with your emotions about it so you can go back to living, in your words, a normal life."

"Well I don't need help to do that. This has been happening for _way_ longer than last night and I've been fine. I've always been fine and I'll continue to stay fine. I'm not crazy."

"You've repeated that statement many times," she commented. "May I ask why you're so concerned if others think you're 'crazy'?"

Quinn's jaw clenched. "I know how the lawyers work. You tell them I'm crazy and they decide that anything I say is not reliable, convince the jury that I'm a lying psycho who hurt myself or some shit like that, and _he_ walks free. But I'm not crazy. Last night did happen. You can't tell them I'm crazy."

She resisted the urge to point out that such 'overvalued ideas' could actually be misconstrued by a psychiatrist as her being 'crazy' but she knew Quinn was just scared and worried. And from what she had heard about her father, she had good reason to be worried too, and little reason to have faith in any of her healthcare workers to have her best interests at heart. Hopefully, that would change with time.

"I'm not a court-appointed psychiatrist, so I'm not going to do that. I'm here as _your_ psychiatrist, to help you, or to see what other kind of help you need. From what I've seen today as well as heard, I agree with you. You're not 'crazy'. You, however, aren't 'fine' either. You're scared and hurt and angry, and those are all perfectly normal responses to both what happened to you last night and what has been happening to you for a long time. I'll be referring you to a therapist – she's not a doctor, more like a counselor, and she'll be the one working with you on a weekly basis to help you. I'll see you again in a month's time to find out how you've been doing."

...

Quinn heard footsteps approach her door and sighed. Seriously, first it was that stupid nurse, than the annoying medical students, then that nervous intern, the wounds dressing nurse, and then that weird psychiatrist… Who was it this time? She thought she was medically fine, so why the hell were there so many healthcare workers parading in and out of her room? Maybe if she pretended to be sleeping, they would leave her alone…

"Hello, Quinn," Maribel greeted from the door. "May I come in?"

"Mrs Lopez!" Quinn greeted, sitting up in her bed abruptly, very much pleasantly surprised to hear that familiar voice and see that it was Santana's mother visiting her. Now, this was one visitor who was very much welcome to her little hospital room.

Maribel smiled and gave a little wave.

"Please come in, ma'am," Quinn replied, smiling happily to see the woman she adored visiting her. After last night, she hadn't been sure if she would ever get to see Mrs Lopez again.

Maribel waved aside her polite term of address as she walked into the room, and sat down on the chair beside her bed. "What have I _always_ told you about your 'ma'am's and 'Mrs Lopez'es? 'Maribel' is fine and so much simpler. Or 'Aunt Maribel', if you prefer."

Quinn smiled sheepishly at that comment. '_Aunt_ Maribel'? That word brought a smile to her face. Maybe she would continue to see her around after all.

"Yes ma'am- I mean uh, Au- Maribel." Okay, maybe 'Aunt' was still a weird word to use. She could work up to it, though. She very much liked the sound of it.

Maribel smiled at Quinn's perpetual shyness, knowing that she would always warm up to her with time. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Why are you here? Shouldn't you be home with Santino?"

"Santino isn't home, he has a play date with a friend. Although these days he prefers to say he's _'hanging out'_ with his _'buddies'_… claims he's too old for play dates."

Quinn nodded, amused. Santino was 12 but he had always liked to act older than he was, mostly because he wanted to appear as 'cool' as his older sister. He would tell people he was "almost 13" when they asked how old he was and he also liked to sneak into the living room to 'hang out' with the girls during their sleepovers. Quinn had a soft spot for him and thought he was really sweet. Santana found him annoying and was always trying to get rid of him, but anyone could see that she also cared very much for her little brother. Although she would deny it to the grave if you said that to her. Not that many people knew about her relationship with her brother, she wasn't one for sharing personal details with others. Even if they knew, no one would dare to tease her about it anyway.

"That sounds just like him," Quinn commented, smiling at Maribel. She couldn't help but wish Santino was here, though. That boy was a dear, he made her feel like an angel, and when she talked to him, the darkness in her life seemed just that little bit further away, that such a cute and innocent boy would want to talk to her and even have his cute little schoolboy crush on her. She had come to care for him like a brother in the past few years, and if she wasn't going to go on any more sleepovers at the Lopezes' house, she might not have that many opportunities to see him in future. Still, she understood why Maribel wouldn't want him visiting her, after knowing what happened. Santino was an innocent kid who didn't need to have his happy innocent world contaminated by someone like her.

"Miss him?" Maribel asked, seemingly reading her mind. She smiled when Quinn's eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, I'm his mom, I am well aware that he has a huge crush on you which you girls find terribly amusing but I also know about your soft spot for him - You're sweet with him, and you treat him like he's your own little brother."

She reached over to hold one of Quinn's hands, noting the bandage around her wrist and being careful not to touch it. "I haven't told him anything about what happened to you yet, since I thought I should speak to you first, find out how much you want him to know. I'll bring him along tonight… Having a husband who works in the hospital does have its advantages, I can bring as many visitors in as I want, even if it's after visiting hours."

Quinn smiled and nodded. "Could you just tell him I got hurt and had to get hospitalized for treatment? He doesn't need to know it was my parents who did it, or what else happened… The doctors said I'm fine and can be discharged soon anyway, so he doesn't really need to know any more than that."

"Has your social worker spoken to you about who you're going to live with after you get discharged?"

"Sharon? She doesn't know yet." Quinn shrugged and lay back against her pillows. She didn't really want to think about that.

"Do you want me to speak to her, find out how her progress is?"

"There's no need to," Quinn protested.

"Well, I'm still going to ask her anyway. I intend to make sure you're well looked after with whichever family you're placed with."

"Thank you, ma'am," Quinn replied, Maribel's words warming her heart inside. It seemed like they were going to continue to be a part of her life, after all. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to stay with whichever foster parents she was placed with so long as they allowed her to continue going for sleepovers at the Lopezes' during the weekends…

" 'Aunt Maribel', not 'ma'am'," Maribel corrected, bringing yet another smile to Quinn's face.

"Yes, _Aunt_ Maribel."

…

"Practice ended?" Quinn asked when she saw Santana walking into her hospital room.

"Mami," Santana greeted as she flopped onto the other visitors' chair and turned to Quinn. "Yeah, practice ended. How're you doing?"

"I'm good. Your mom's been visiting with me."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"Quinn, I'll get going first, I have to pick Santino up from his friend's house. Like I said earlier, I'll bring him by again this evening. And Santana, please go home and get changed. How many times must I tell you that your Cheerios uniform is not appropriate attire to wear in a hospital?"

"Si, Mami. I'll just chat awhile with Quinn before I head home, okay? I'm sure Quinn wants to hear about how practice went."

"Alright, but don't stay too long."

"Si."

"Bye Quinn, Bye 'Tana,"

"Bye, Aunt Maribel."

"_Aunt_ Maribel?" Santana asked, when her mother had left the room. "Since when did you start calling my mom your aunt?"

Quinn shrugged. "Do you mind?"

"Nah, not really." In a way, she sort of understood. Quinn had lost her parents last night and now had no one. It was natural for her to try and adopt her mother as her aunt.

A sudden thought struck Santana. Maybe she could get her mom to adopt Quinn? She didn't know what was going on with CPS or who Quinn was going to live with, but she was sure her mom or dad knew what was going on there, and what kind of paperwork they needed to fill in to adopt Quinn. Her mom and brother both loved Quinn in their own way, it would be a perfect match, right?

"So, did you really come by to tell me about practice or are you in a bad mood and hoping for more medical students to yell at?" Quinn asked, wanting to change the subject.

"The former," she replied with a laugh. "Although practice did suck and I wouldn't mind the latter either. Why? Have they been giving you crap again?"

"No, I haven't seen them all morning."

"Good. I definitely wouldn't mind yelling at them again, especially after that practice from hell. Coach went nuts on all of us. I think it's because you weren't around."

"Did you tell her why?"

"She knew already. I think the hospital informed the school? Anyway, she knows you're in the hospital because your parents hurt you, and you're in foster care now, but I don't think she knows much else besides that."

Quinn nodded. She had expected as much. She only hoped Mr Schuester kept a tighter lid on his mouth this time and didn't go blurting her secrets out to anyone who asked, like he had Rachel's secret about being her fathers being investigated by CPS and her removal from their care. Not that she thought anyone would ask about her. The only people in school who really gave a crap about her were Santana and Brittany, and Brittany was too innocent to go asking Mr Schuester about something like that.

"What else did Coach say?"

"You were right, she said I'm the Captain now and she said some other stuff too, about you being my vice-Captain but not really… I don't know, it was confusing. I think she wants to tell you herself properly anyway, because she asked me for your hospital room number. She knew you were at this hospital too, just needed the number. She could probably get it off the receptionist or someone, so I gave it to her. She was pretty intimidating. I hope you don't mind?"

"It's okay, S. You're right, she could have found out on her own either way," Quinn replied, although she, too, wondered what Coach wanted to say to her. Coach hardly ever had anything to say to any student that wasn't a Cheerio or about to be one.

Santana noticed Quinn was deep in thought and decided to leave her be. "Okay, I better make a move first, or Mami will start nagging at me if I'm still not home when she gets home after picking Santino up. I don't know why she bothers, really. No one at the hospital would give me shit about my uniform, they know my Papi works here."

Quinn smiled. Few people in school knew that Santana was actually an obedient daughter, especially towards her mother whom she also loved very much. "Sure. See you later."

"See you, Q. I'll be back in a while."

Quinn wondered if Coach Sylvester would visit her in the hospital, red tracksuit and all. Did Coach actually do things like that, visit her students in the hospital? It seemed so weird and very un-Coach like. She yelled at the girls – from behind the desk, out on the field… she didn't really do nice and sympathetic things like visit them in the hospital when they were sick.

Then again, maybe Coach was coming to the hospital to yell at her for getting herself pregnant? She was starting to wish that Maribel hadn't left – she really didn't want the entire hospital listening in on a Coach Sylvester tirade directed at her, especially when she knew very well that the hospital walls weren't sound proof. Those medical students would surely have a field day with that. But if Maribel were here, then perhaps she wouldn't allow it to happen, or at least, would stop it before it went too far.

However, she had her own family to look after, and nice as she was towards her, she couldn't be around all the time. Besides, if she got a scolding from Coach, she probably deserved it. Even though with regard to this particular issue about her pregnancy, Coach Sylvester probably didn't have all the facts – or at least, Quinn hoped she didn't. She doubted Dr Lopez would break her trust and share her secret with anyone other than the police.

She knew most of the girls were deathly afraid of Coach Sylvester but she had always liked and admired her. She might be strict and fierce but she was usually also quite fair. She punished laziness and sloppiness quite harshly but she also saw and rewarded hard work and discipline, which was probably how Quinn had managed to earn the position of Captain over the other more senior girls, in the first place.

For the past year, working under Coach Sylvester, leading her Cheerios team, it had been nice to know she had the older woman's approval. Now that she was pregnant and off the team though, she doubted she would have that approval for much longer.

…

Sue Sylvester lingered in her car, almost unwilling to make that first move to step out of her car and enter the hospital. Room 44, Santana had said. She knew that was a pediatrics ward, and she cringed internally at the thought of having to wade through a sea of sick and dying children. But she had to, for this particular student. She owed her at least that much.

She had first watched Quinn perform when she was still in junior high. Russell Fabray had bribed with a new confetti cannon to attend the competition, not knowing that she would have gone either way. She had watched out for Quinn as promised, but he honestly had not needed to go to so much trouble to get her attention. Even back then, she had known that this girl had what it took to be great and would make a great addition to her squad.

Her performance had been flawless, and she wasn't just talking about the success completion of her stunts. Whether she was jumping, twirling or flipping, every motion of every part of her body had been graceful and efficient, a quality that spoke to the hours of practice it must have taken her to practice her moves to perfection, and to eliminate all excess and unnecessary movements. It was a quality she expected from all her Cheerios, but she knew the junior high coach was not as strict with her girls, which meant that Quinn must have been practicing these moves on her own.

At that time, she had recognized such a combination of self-discipline, diligence and talent that she had actually felt _excited_ about getting the girl into her squad when she entered high school. She had also known that day that this girl would probably captain her squad one day, it was just a question of in which year.

And Quinn had not disappointed her either. She regularly went above and beyond all her expectations, and was also a natural born leader. She was poised and confident, and the other girls looked up to her and listened to her - without her having to scream and shout at any of them. She was also one of the best students academically, not that it mattered all that much to Sue, but it saved her the trouble of having to fight with Principal Figgins to keep her girls academically eligible.

Overall, she was one of the best students in McKinley, one might even suggest she was the perfect student. Sue was not one who frequently missed things, but never once had she ever considered that her star student could have been abused at home, badly enough to have been hospitalized and immediately put under the care of CPS. Not just that, she had been getting into enough shenanigans with Hudson to get herself knocked up by that boy?! Word was that the latter had probably resulted in the former, which didn't surprise her. Russell Fabray, after all, was a well-known religious nut.

She herself had wanted to yell at Quinn when she had found out about her pregnancy, but even she had her limits – No amount of idiocy on the part of the girl should have warranted parental child abuse severe enough to land her in the hospital. She supposed the girl had paid sufficiently for her mistake, she only hoped the abuse was a one-off event and had not been a long-term occurrence.

Why was she hiding in her car again? Sue Sylvester does not hide, she acts swiftly and decisively and gets the job done, however difficult or unpleasant. Making up her mind, she emerged from her car and made her way to Room 44.

...

"Good morning, Coach Sylvester."

Quinn tried to straighten herself up and look smarter as she greeted her Coach. It did not escape her notice that this was the first time since her first day of school as a freshman that she had appeared in front of her Coach not attired in her Cheerios uniform. She had worn her uniform to school religiously since that initial invitation to join cheerleading, an invitation she had received even before sign-ups were posted.

Now, that felt like it had happened a long time ago.

Seeing Coach Sylvester, all decked out in her classical red track suit, standing in front of her in a hospital, was slightly unnerving - perhaps because she associated the hospital with weakness, and Coach had always been a symbol of feminine strength and empowerment to her. She was thankful that Santana had warned her that Coach might visit, although she hadn't really believed it until now, when Coach was standing right in front of her.

"Quinn."

Sue was struck momentarily speechlessly at the sight of her once Captain lying in a hospital bed, dressed in a hospital gown. She looked so different from the Quinn Fabray that she remembered from their daily interactions. Even as a freshman very much in awe of the legendary Sue Sylvester, that version of Quinn had had more spunk and life than the broken girl lying in front of her. In that moment, Sue knew that something terrible must have happened to this girl for her to change so much in the last 24 hours, but even as she turned that thought in her head, she saw Quinn transform before her eyes, her defensive barriers coming up one by one with smooth, long-practiced ease.

Her shoulders straightened, her lips thinned into a polite smile, her chest puffed up a little, and she raised her head slightly higher, her chin lifting up to complete the posture of aloof confidence that Sue was far more accustomed to seeing. She still looked tired but that was to be expected. Her eyes, at least, were alert as they always were when she was speaking to her coach. This Quinn currently sitting in front of her was now the Quinn whom she had entrusted to captain her Cheerios, the Quinn who silenced seniors with one icy look and got freshmen to confess their dietary "sins" without having to speak a single word. The HBIC Quinn that the whole school had come to know, except apparently, this Quinn had all been one huge façade.

With such smooth acting skills, the abuse probably had not been a one-off event. How could she have missed something so important for so long? Just how long had she missed it for anyway? She recalled asking both Quinn and Berry into her office that day to extend an invitation to the latter girl to join the Cheerios, because she wanted to protect the singer from bullying after finding out about her abuse at home. How had she gotten caught up with this Schuester's kid and completely missed all the signs in her own head cheerleader?

Thankfully, Quinn recovered first, saving Sue from the embarrassment of her speechlessness.

"I'm sorry, Coach," she began. "Santana has already told me you know what has happened, with my... pregnancy. I'll quit the Cheerios on my own, and I'll return my uniform when I get back to school."

"Keep it."

Surprised, Quinn's eyes widened. "What? Aren't I off the team?"

Sue sat down on the chair beside Quinn's bed, although she continued to hold herself stiffly. "It _is_ against regulations for me to keep a pregnant girl on my squad, not to mention the risks to your health and the fetus if you were to continue cheerleading, especially if you continue flying off the top of my pyramid. Nevertheless, I can't deny that you're still the best girl on the squad. So keep the uniform, you're only off the team temporarily. You'll be wearing it again next year."

Quinn nodded hesitantly. She could tell why Santana had been confused. Coach Sylvester wasn't making much sense here.

Thankfully, she continued her speech without any prompting from Quinn. "Why do you think I chose Santana as your vice-captain? She's athletic and talented but also obviously far too hot-headed to be an effective leader. She also cares for no one on the squad besides you and Brittany."

Quinn blinked. That was actually quite an accurate and succinct description of Santana.

"I choose my captain to lead the team. I choose my vice-captain to help my captain achieve that goal. You may be out of commission for the next few months but you're still one of my captains. I don't expect you to be present at trainings, you obviously have much more to deal with now. Settle into your new living arrangements. Get better, get your act together, and you'll be my captain again next year."

"As for this year, Santana, your vice-captain, will stand-in for you as the captain, and she will also take your place at the top of that pyramid. But I am not finding her a new vice-captain, because that's your job. It used to be _her_ job to help _you_ and now, it's _your_ job to help _her_. I'm going to be expecting much more of her from now on, and it's your job to make sure she rises to the occasion and becomes the leader I know she can be. Help your friend to whip the girls into shape, otherwise you know she's going to get hell from me."

"Why?" Quinn blurted out before she could help herself. She had never questioned any of Coach's orders before but this was just too confusing.

"You need the Cheerios, and they need you."

Despite that short reply that still didn't quite answer her question, this entire conversation was still the most words she had heard coach say to her. She hated it, hated that even her relationship with the coach she admired had been tainted by this. She had hoped to avoid her and just leave the uniforms outside her office when she returned to school. That Coach would come to visit her and confront all these issues with her just felt wrong somehow.

"Does everyone know what happened? About why I'm in the hospital?"

"The school has to be informed when a student's guardianship has been transferred or when a student is involved in criminal investigations..." Sue pursed her lips, knowing she should stop hiding behind the formal words and keep it simple and straightforward. "I know what happened, that you were abused and raped. The girls don't, except for Santana, whom I assume you told."

Quinn nodded. Those words had stopped bothering her sometime ago, and even if she hated that it was her beloved coach saying them to her, she was glad that Coach knew she wasn't weak, that she would be able to handle it.

"Do you know who did it?"

"No. Do you want me to?"

Quinn shook her head.

"Okay, then I don't need to know."

It was only after Coach left that she realized that if coach knew she had been removed from her parents' care, she could probably guess who had done it. Coach Sylvester was many things, but she was far from stupid. Quinn was grateful that she had allowed her to keep her secrets and had not probed further. It was a kindness that she had not expected from the normally abrasive coach, but she very much appreciated it. It seemed Coach Sylvester was capable of demonstrating some measure of compassion, after all.

Moments later, Santana entered her room, carrying an overnight bag with her.

"Hey, Q. I came back and saw you were talking to Coach so I gave you two the space to talk. Did she explain that shit to you?"

"That I'm not on the squad but am still your non-performing, non-uniform-wearing vice-captain? Yup, she did."

"Yeah. Strange huh?"

"Well, Coach has never been the kind who embraces the conventional. I think what's even more strange is that she didn't give me hell for being… you know, pregnant. I thought for sure she was going to blast out my eardrums but she was surprisingly civil, almost nice."

"She's probably lost her voice after blasting out _my_ eardrums out during practice."

"That bad?"

"That bad with _her_. Apparently, _everything_ I did was wrong and I have extra morning _and_ evening sessions with her for the next few weeks until I get everything right. But it wasn't as bad as I had expected with the girls. I'm guessing they were all still kinda in shock and the real deal will come once they get it into their heads that even without you around, a sophomore is still going to be their captain."

Quinn nodded. Coach had high expectations of the Captain, she wasn't surprised that Santana hadn't managed to match her perfectionist levels on the first practice. The girls' response was a bigger surprise to her, given how much crap the juniors and seniors had given her when she had been made Captain last year. "How did you handle the girls?"

"I took your advice, acted like a total bitch towards them. Actually, it didn't take much acting, they were totally trying to give me hell all practice. You were right, though, they backed off some after that."

Quinn smiled. "They just need to know you're tough enough to survive Coach Sylvester and win them Nationals. Many of the seniors are depending on winning their fourth consecutive Nationals for their scholarships after all."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Like I give a crap about _that_. I'll just ask Coach to kick them off the squad if they give me too much trouble."

"Don't," Quinn advised. "Go head to head with them, and once you've won a few more battles with the best of them, they'll start to back down and really listen to you. If you just kick anyone that gives you trouble off the squad, it just makes you look weak, like you're using your new title against them because you can't handle them without it. Besides, it's important to keep those girls around, so long as they know that at the end of the day, you're still the Captain and they need to listen to you. They're the experienced ones, and they've been for more Nationals competitions than the both of us combined. You need them around."

Santana groaned, slumping in her chair. "That's a whole lot of shit to have to think about."

"Well, it's now _your_ job to "give a crap" about all that "shit". Don't screw it up."

Santana nodded. It made sense, she supposed. Still, she had never realized how much hard work was involved in captaining a cheerleading squad, especially when it's _Coach Sylvester_'s cheerleading squad. At least Quinn would still be sticking around to help her. Coach was right, even if Quinn couldn't join practice anymore, she could not have asked for a better vice-captain to help her and the squad through this adjustment phase.

Quinn looked around and spotted the duffel bag that was thrown at the foot of her bed. "What's in there?" she asked. "Are you going for another session with Coach _this evening_?"

"Nope, that's my overnight bag. I'm sleeping over here tonight. Evening sessions start Monday." She groaned again. There goes her social life and more importantly, her Brittany-time. This totally sucked.

Quinn's smiled faded. "You don't need to stay. I told you, those medical students have stopped bothering me. I don't need you to babysit me."

"Are you arguing with your Captain?" Santana asked teasingly but felt bad almost immediately, when Quinn's eyes fell in embarrassment at the reminder of her loss of that prestigious position that she had fought so hard to achieve.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Anyway, pregnancy aside, you obviously make a much better Captain than me, and I still have many questions about how Coach does things, so yeah, I'm staying the night and you can help me answer all those questions. And help me get that stupid new routine right. No way am I getting screwed that badly again next practice."

Quinn nodded. "Alright," she conceded. "Although really, if your Mom balks at you wearing your uniform in here, what is she going to do to you if she finds you practicing your cheerleading routines here?"

"Then we just have to make sure she doesn't catch us," Santana said with a conspiratorial smirk.


	36. Troubled Thoughts

NZgleek91 – Not sure about Sue/Quinn moments, but there'll definitely be more of Quinn (:

monprincess – Thank you so much, I appreciate your comment every time (:

CarmellaD'Winter – She'll learn to trust and allow people to help her. Starting with "Aunt Maribel" (: I'm sorry you were forced to see a psychiatrist, but I'm pleased my writing made you think of your own experiences!

Shana – Yes! My heart leaped with joy when I read your review – You spotted it! You're the only one who mentioned my reference to Quinn's sister, haha. Answering your questions would unfortunately spoil the surprise for you, although I would say that like in canon, she is called Frannie, and is also older than Quinn. Little bits of pieces about her will be revealed in due time, although as a reward for your sharp observation, I will point out another little clue that I dropped previously – Frannie was who Quinn was referring to in "[28.] Chapter 26 – Secrets", when, Quinn thinks at the end that "It was all the family she had left, and it had been a long time since she had someone, a family member to share her life with". :D

Comegetit – Haha, you're welcome. Unfortunately, that chapter was unusually long, largely because I added an extra scene last minute (the one with Nurse Martha) on a reviewer's sort-of request. Chapters won't always be this long. Hopefully, you can put up with the varying lengths of chapters – like I said, sometimes the chapters just have their natural endings, and I'm not always going to add in extra scenes just to meet some arbitrary word count, heh.

Guest – Haha, I'm glad you like Quinn so much. This chapter is mostly Rachel, but the Quinn scene here is my favourite, haha.

Emy – I'm glad I didn't have to write in a scene of Maribel telling Quinn about Sharon's offer, either. Yes, Maribel will definitely be sticking around (:

Anon – Yup, Shelby certainly has her work cut out for her, especially with Rachel's new issues blossoming in this chapter too. Go, Shelbs!

Renata – Haha, you're clearly very biased towards Rachel, lol. There's a lot more of her in this chapter, though I didn't really enjoy writing her in this manner. Hope you like it, though (:

Rini – Haha, I like Santana too. And as for Dr Lopez, he's her Papi, so hopefully he can take it :P

JWilson18 – Haha, I can't wait till their stories intertwine too! Thanks for enjoying Quinn's story even though you have a preference for Rachel's (:

SA03 – I guess it's hard for her to remember she's still just a kid, especially when she's pregnant and has a child on the way. But eventually, she'll realise that becoming a mother under these circumstances is going to require more of her than she can handle and she will slowly let help in (: More importantly, people are building a support system around her, so that help will be available when she finally is willing to allow herself to be helped.

shiniso – I love Maribel too (: I really enjoyed writing Maribel and Santino's visit in this chapter. Unfortunately, Rachel and Shelby will continue to have some communication difficulties, and yes, all hell will break loose soon XD

GreenLemons – Haha, please feel flattered and not guilty, writing Nurse Martha was fun, and even though Quinn hadn't needed Nurse Martha medically, I think she benefitted from it emotionally. I enjoyed writing non-bitchy Sue too – I figured besides the Lopezes, Sue is the other person who would blame herself for not having noticed any signs of abuse earlier. As for Aunt Maribel, I'm glad you liked it, but I don't think Quinn's use of Mom Shelby and Sister Rachel will be happening any time soon, lol. I'm also glad you found the psychiatrist session uncomfortable, because that's exactly how Quinn felt as well.

Guest – Quinn was actually only left alone that night for a few hours, but yup, I get what you mean. Unwelcome visitors. Santana is good for her (:

claireeleven – Wow, thanks for that awesome review! I'm truly flattered. I think it's cool that you're a medical student too. I'm a Singaporean trying to write about the American healthcare system, so I'm not sure how helpful my writing will be to you as an Australian, but I guess many medical issues and certain aspects of medical care are pretty universal. Just don't emulate the asshole medical students who were gossiping about Rachel and Quinn, yea? (:  
I'll admit, there are certain things I want to happen in this story, but I'll always do my best to make everything flow so that the plot is believable. As for Rachel, I think she is very naïve and trusting and also very affectionate to her parents, very much seeks and desires their approval, and eventually, she will learn to find comfort in Shelby. However, her view of parent-child relationships has currently been thrown way off kilter and it'll take her some time to get there. Last but not least, thank you for reassuring me about my English. I dislike reading stories with bad English, and I was initially really afraid that others – Caucasians? British, American, Canadian, Australian… – people for whom English is their first language, would find my English horrible too, but I'm glad that does not seem to have been the case so far. Thank you for reviewing! Your review made my day (:

Chapter 34. Troubled Thoughts

The ride back home was silent.

Rachel must be just tired after her many appointments, Shelby thought to herself. She wasn't surprised at Rachel's fatigue, it had been a long day indeed, for the both of them . They had spent 5 hours that morning at 5 different appointments, 6 if you counted their visit with Sharon as well.

She thought back to what Dr Janet had shared with her earlier and sighed. On hindsight, making her see the psychiatrist last in her long line of appointments probably hadn't been a good idea. Rachel had looked like she was going to collapse and was doing everything in her power to keep herself together. Dr Janet hadn't shared much about what Rachel had said, except to say that she didn't say much and had spent the session justifying all her fathers' actions, unwittingly revealing more about her own mental state than she had intended. Thankfully, Dr Janet had understood that Rachel would take some time to open up more about herself and for them to move beyond her defense of her fathers, and she was willing to give her the time she needed to get there. It looked like there was going to be a lot of work to do, so they had decided on weekly appointments for Rachel.

After their last stop visiting with Sharon, they had dropped by the canteen to eat lunch, since neither of them had seemed in the mood for anything fancy. However, Rachel had once again seemed uninterested and tired, and had eaten even less than usual. Shelby hoped this was a one-off occurrence and that Rachel would continue her trend of increasing appetite this week as well. She accepted that a 3 pound weight increase in a week was good progress, but Rachel was still 28 pounds underweight, even despite her short height, and Shelby fully intended to get her back to normal as quickly as possible. She got that there was a little bit of 'Coach Corcoran's' perfectionism in that statement, but she didn't care – this was her little girl's health she was talking about, and she would settle for nothing short of perfection. Besides, the developmental pediatrician had shared that Rachel needed to eat sufficiently and gain enough weight before her body would move out of 'starvation mode' and allow her natural pubertal developments such as menarche and thelarche to occur. They didn't have all that much time to work with, what with Rachel turning 15 in a few more weeks.

Shelby blinked and almost laughed at herself for where her train of thoughts were taking her. She was so focused on the future, she had almost forgotten about the present, which included Rachel staring listlessly out of the car window on the passenger's side. 14 years old or not, it looked like a nap was really in order for her tired little girl.

Rachel sat beside her mother in the car, deep in thought. She couldn't shake that conversation out of her head. The psychiatrist's appointment had been exhausting, sitting there smiling cheerfully and acting like nothing was wrong when she was just dying inside. The worst part was when the psychiatrist had spoken to the both of them together and her mother had talked about how everything was fine and nothing was wrong. Rachel had kept mostly quiet but really, she had wanted to jump out of the chair and scream at her mom. If everything was so fine, why was her mother asking the social worker about taking in other girls? If nothing was wrong, why was her mother sick of her already? What had she done wrong that was so bad, that couldn't just be punished with a simple beating or two? Why did she want to trade her in already?

But her mother was either a phenomenal actress or didn't care a whit for her, because she had behaved normally throughout the psychiatrist's visit, their meeting with Sharon, and at lunch as well. She had bought a full portion of lunch for Rachel and stared at her expectantly, making it clear she was supposed to finish her entire lunch. What had happened to her earlier displeasure at her weight gain?

Or maybe, now that her mom was going to get rid of her soon, any weight gain on her part simply didn't matter anymore.

She swallowed hard at that thought. It felt like her mother had given up on her already.

She hadn't been able to eat much during lunch anyway, even if she had wanted to, and her mom had frowned at the large portion of the food she was wasting, making her want to shrivel up and die right there and then for disappointing her mom again. However, she hadn't been holding herself back from the food, she really couldn't help it. The words she had overheard weighed heavily on her and robbed her of her appetite. Even the small amount of food she had eaten continued to churn uncomfortably in her stomach now, unable to settle properly. Just like those words being tossed and turned over again and again, in her mind.

Finally, they reached home.

"Go take a shower," Shelby urged, when Rachel reached over to grab the plastic bag of extra protein shake they had bought at the pharmacy. "I'll bring this in, you can go in first. You've looked forward to this shower for really long, and you deserve it too, having obeyed me so well about taking care of your dressings this past week," Shelby said with a smile.

How could her mom still be smiling at her? Was it because she was talking about the dressings? Her mother had been so particular about her looking after her dressings this past week. It had confused Rachel initially - her fathers had never cared much about how well she was healing, although Daddy would buy her new bandages when she ran out of them. Now, she realized that Shelby had probably just been impatient for her to heal completely before she could declare that she had done her duty by Rachel and guiltlessly throw her to someone else. Rachel wanted to cry at the realization that today's change to her waterproof dressings was definitely proof that she was well on her way to getting healed.

Well on her way to getting kicked out of her mother's house?

The fear gripped her heart like an iron vise, paralyzing her completely.

"Rachel? Are you okay? I'm sorry, you must have had a long day at the hospital today. Come on, go take a quick shower then we can talk. Or you can take a nap first before we talk, that's fine too."

Rachel shook her head quickly to dispel her wandering thoughts. Now was not the time to add 'inattention to her mother' to her already long list of misdemeanours.

"T-Talk? About what?"

"Were you listening to what I was saying? Sharon told me some things just now when you were still with Nurse Martha and I wanted to discuss it with you first before making a decision."

"We can talk now. I mean, if you want to."

Shelby shook her head. "I meant that we are going to talk after your shower, and clearly, nothing is going to register on your mind until you've had a shower to refresh yourself. Go on and take a shower first, please, you're much too tired now to talk properly. Come along, I'll help you get your clothes."

Shelby propelled Rachel into the shower, and returned a minute later with her clothes. "Take your time and enjoy your shower," she added, before leaving Rachel alone.

Enjoy? How could she possibly enjoy anything when she already knew what Sharon had been talking to Shelby about? When she knew that once she stepped out of this bathroom, her life with her mother was pretty much over?

Get a grip of yourself, Rachel told herself firmly. The more you behave in this manner, the more your mother wouldn't want to keep you. Take a shower obediently like she told you to, then go down and see what she wants from you. Maybe it's nothing, maybe Sharon just has another client she wants you to meet and befriend like some kind of support group or whatever. Maybe her mother had refused to take in this other girl. Or maybe she's just going to give you that punishment you still owe her from yesterday which she had wanted to wait till after Nurse Martha's wound dressing change to give you so as not to raise suspicions. You never know…

Soothing warm water ran down from the shower. It was the first time she was showering in a week, and her worries and anxieties were momentarily put aside, washed away by the warm and relaxing shower. She had enjoyed her mom's gentle attentions the past week but it felt good to be able to shower on her own again.

Thoughts of her mother, however, soon invaded her mind and drove away any kind of relaxation she had been enjoying.

"_I just don't know what to do with her anymore."_

What had Shelby meant by that? She wished she could have stayed a while longer to hear the rest of their conversation. What had they talked about after that? Had her mother already said yes?

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she let them fall, camouflaged by the water cascading from the shower head. Alone in the shower stall, she sobbed her fears and insecurities out.

That's good, cry as much as you want, let it all out now, then walk out of the shower with a smile on your face. No one loves a crybaby and you're really going to have to work hard at being on your best behaviour if you want to continue living here with your mom.

...

"Feeling better, Rachel?"

Rachel nodded, making sure to keep a smile fixed on her face.

"You do look better," Shelby commented. "Come sit down here, there's something I need to talk to you about."

Rachel sat down obediently. _Here it comes._

"Okay, there's this girl who is currently under Sharon's care too, and she needs a place to stay. Her parents treated her badly, and she has just had a terrible experience as well, which she'll tell you more about if she wants to. The thing is, she needs a place to stay, and Sharon was wondering if she could come here and stay with us."

Rachel swallowed hard. "You want another daughter?"

"No, I only want one. But this girl needs a home, a family to stay with, and I thought maybe she could come stay here… What do you think?"

I need you too, Mom, Rachel thought. And I'm your birth daughter, you told me you bore me for 9 months and gave birth to me right there in the hospital, don't you remember? There were so many other things she wanted to say but it was probably no use. She was all healed and whole now, and her Mom was moving on to the next girl who needed her help.

She should have known it was too good to be true. Living with her mom like this, not getting beaten or starved or anything despite everything she had done wrong... Someone like her didn't deserve a nice parent like her mom. Now, some pregnant girl who needed a mom more was going to get her and she was going to rot in the CPS office forever, homeless and parentless. At least her fathers had put up with her for more than 14 years, her mom had barely lasted 2 weeks.

"Are you okay, Rachel? I'm sorry for pouncing this on you now, you must be really tired. Maybe you should go take a nap first, we can talk about this later."

"I'm fine," Rachel said quickly. "Let's talk about this now, please."

"Okay, if you're sure… So, what do you think?"

Rachel shrugged. What was she supposed to say? What was her mother asking her – What do you think about me dumping you, trading you in for another girl? What kind of answer could she give to that?

"I want to know how _you_ feel about this, Rachel. Do you think I should take her in?"

Rachel swallowed hard. Shelby had said ' I', not 'we'.

"I guess. I mean, if you want to."

"Well, her coming to live here will affect you too. For instance, she'll have to share your room for awhile, until I get the guest room ready. Would that be okay?"

"Share my room? When is she coming?"

"She can probably come tomorrow, if all goes well. And if you agree as well, of course."

If _she_ agreed? Was she even allowed to disagree? Would her disagreement even matter? It seemed to her as if her mother had already made her decision. Shelby clearly wanted this other girl, who was she to stand in the way of her mother's happiness? Shelby had already done so much for her this past week, it was her own fault she hadn't treasured it, hadn't treasured her.

At least her mother had said they were sharing the room, so that meant she wasn't leaving. Yet. She still had a chance to prove herself worthy of being her mother's daughter. How long did she have? Was Sharon already looking for a new placement for her as they spoke? Maybe Shelby was waiting till Thursday, waiting until Rachel was off activity restriction and able to do housework. It made sense, she supposed, being officially off activity restriction would enable her to help out with the household chores with whatever foster family or group home Sharon placed her in next. That would hopefully help keep her in this new placement, wherever it was, longer than the one week she had so far been living with her mother. Shelby was really being considerate here.

Considerate? She had barely had her for more than a week and she was already giving up on her. If she was truly considerate, she would have put in more effort. Hadn't Rachel just given her that essay she wrote this morning? She should have looked through that first, tried out a few of those punishments before declaring Rachel a hopeless case. It wasn't as if Rachel hadn't offered to be punished many times, even begged for it but she just couldn't be bothered to.

Or maybe it was just that Rachel wasn't worth the effort. Maybe this other girl was.

Had her misbehaviour really been that bad? She tried to think back to everything she had done wrong so far but there were too many instances to think through, too many infractions she hadn't yet been punished for. Was it because she had stupidly disobeyed her mom yesterday and tried to clean the house only to make matters worse when her mom slipped on the wet floor and fell? Mom hadn't punished her, had insisted she wouldn't but what if… Her heart ached in her chest.

If Shelby couldn't be bothered with punishing her, she should have heeded her initial warning of how poorly behaved she was. She should have known anyway, Rachel thought indignantly. She had seen the punishment marks on her back that very first night, should have realized just how many punishments Rachel must have accumulated over the weeks, to have those kinds of overlapping injuries, should have anticipated how horrible a girl her daughter was. And if she thought she couldn't handle it, she should have just flown back to New York that stupid day last week. Last week, when they had just met at CPS, or after she had brought her to the hospital.

She should have left before Rachel had gotten the chance to know her and fall in love with her. Before her mother, Shelby Corcoran, had morphed from being a faceless name on off-Broadway shows on Google, into this real-life, gorgeous, gentle and kind woman. Her injuries weren't that bad, she would have healed just fine on her own even if she had remained with her fathers. Staying until the recovery of her injuries was just making it hurt more when she finally left. Even now, every second she was spending with her mom with that uncertainty of whether Sharon was going to show up with the girl the next minute was killing her. She wanted to treasure it, to make the most out of every moment she had left with her but her heart felt like it had just been smashed into little pieces, and each little glass piece was now being pierced into her chest wall individually. She just hurt so badly.

This past week of living with her mother, she had gotten used to her mom's presence, the hugs in the morning and the goodnight kisses on her forehead, the gentle, calming hands, the warm cooked meals. She thought of the night before, when her mom had taught her to cook, and she wondered if she could ever stomach eating vegetable casserole again. She recalled last night, the fun they had had eating Chinese takeout and watching 'Funny Girl' together. She remembered her mother's arm around her shoulder, the warmth she had felt in her heart at that affectionate, intimate gesture, how she had felt so very loved. It now felt like a death row prisoner's last meal, the last enjoyable evening before she got the axe.

"Rachel? You must be really tired, you're so distracted and you keep zoning out. You look like you're going to fall asleep on your feet soon," Shelby said, shaking Rachel out of her thoughts.

She blinked and turned to her mother. "I'm fine," she insisted. "I was paying attention to what you were saying!" She thought hard, trying to recall every word her mom had just told her. "You said that this girl has been through a lot and she needs a home. You want to take her in and I'll be sharing my room with her. You asked me if I'm okay with that and I'm fine with it. Anything you decide is alright."

Damn it. Focus, Rachel! No one loves a weakling and she couldn't afford to appear distracted and disinterested in what her mother was saying, not if she wanted her mom to keep her instead of this other girl. Besides, they'd been gone the entire morning, surely there was laundry to wash, housework to be done.

"If there's nothing else, I'll get the laundry, Mom…"

"No you're not, you're still on activity restriction, remember? You young lady, are going to go straight to bed. Don't tell me you're not tired, because you so obviously are. Go on, I'll take care of the laundry and call you down when it's time for dinner."

"Yes ma-Mom." Rachel nodded and returned to her room obediently. Now was not the time to disobey her mother. For the umpteenth time, she wished she had behaved better in the weeks preceding the fight. If she'd had less injuries then, she could have had a shorter recovery time, a shorter period of activity restriction, and maybe had more chance to show her mom just how helpful she could be with the chores. Maybe her mom could have attended her dance recital and seen how well she could dance as well. Maybe...

There were too many maybes and not enough time to fulfill them all.

At least she could take comfort in that she had eavesdropped this and heard it all before her conversation with her mom. She hadn't broken down, she had accepted the news graciously. And when it came time to go, when Sharon came to collect her, she would go willingly too. She couldn't afford to break down in front of her social worker again, at this rate no one was ever going to adopt her. Maybe, just maybe, if she behaved herself from now on and did not make a fuss about any of it, her mom might even still allow her to visit her from time to time.

Behind her, Shelby watched her daughter's retreating back and shook her head. Rachel had become so comfortable with calling her 'Mom' this past week, and had, in fact, seemed to enjoy saying it as much as Shelby had enjoyed hearing it - So what had changed?

She frowned. Maybe it was just fatigue, combined with the hospital visit - addressing all the doctors and nurses she had seen as 'ma'am'. She shouldn't read so much into it. Sharon was right, she shouldn't be so hard on herself. It wasn't good for her or for Rachel. She needed to relax, otherwise she might really go insane soon with all this over-thinking. Especially if one more girl was going to join their little makeshift family unit.

Upstairs, Rachel sat on her bed. Her mother was right, she _was_ awfully tired. It had been a long morning, made longer by the many confusing thoughts that were now wrecking havoc in her brain. She thought back to earlier this morning, when the worst she had anticipated for the day was a punishment beating now that she had completed her final dressings change. What a difference a few hours made. Now she no longer felt dread, but rather, hoped for the beating. It would be well-deserved after everything she had done. More importantly, it would mean that her mom had finally decided to discipline her properly, which might mean that she wanted to keep her around a while longer.

As she lay her head down on her pillow and drifted off to sleep, the last thought in her wandering mind lingered: How many more times would she get to sleep in this bed, to sleep in her mom's house?

...

"Remind me again who's replacing Stacy on the pyramid?"

"Janice is replacing me, Stacy is replacing Janice, Amy is replacing Stacy and Karen is replacing Amy," Santana recited. Much as she was grateful for Quinn's help, she was groaning inwardly. Being vice-captain had been so much easier - 90% of the swagger of being Captain and only 10% of the work. She had never realized how much harder it was to learn everyone else's parts to the routine, and not just her own.

Quinn quickly jotted that down before she forgot it again. She knew the new routine like the back of her hand, but her removal from the squad had caused a shuffle of positions that she had yet to familiarize herself with. "Okay, got it. So in this last bit, Stacy stays there and Amy has to run here, and be careful, she always moves too..."

Their serious conversation, however, were rudely interrupted by a thunderstorm of approaching footsteps, followed by a loud yell that started even before they saw its owner's face. There was, however, no doubt as to who the yell was coming from.

"Hello, Quinn! Mami told me you're sick and I told her we needed to bring flowers for you when we visit you! Look at what I bought!" Santino shouted as he ran into the room carrying a huge bouquet of flowers that practically covered his face.

Both girls heard him before they saw him, and Santana jumped into the chair and cleared the table just in time before her brother came storming in. Thank God for boisterous little brothers who run ahead of their mother, and yell their arrival for the whole world to heard, even in the hospital. She hastily wiped the sweat off her face, it wouldn't do to leave her mom any clues of what they had been practicing before.

Quinn smiled and waved at Santino while beside her, Santana stared at the flowers and rolled her eyes. "You're such a dork!" she exclaimed, reaching over to nudge the flowers out of the way to reveal her brother's Cheshire cat-like grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"Quinn likes the flowers," he argued, sticking his tongue out at his big sister. "Don't you, Quinn?" he asked, grinning expectantly at her.

"Thank you, Santino," Quinn replied, nodding her head and smiling at him. "These are really lovely flowers. It was very sweet of you to buy them for me."

Santana rolled her eyes again. "She's just being nice, although I don't see why she even bothers. You worship the ground she walks on as it is. You think she's _"awesome"_ if she so much as smiles at you and you fly up to the moon every time she thanks you for anything."

"That's because she's nice by nature," he informed his sister, as he unceremoniously placed the flowers on Quinn's stomach and climbed onto the hospital bed, sitting himself down beside Quinn's feet.

"Unlike you," he concluded, sticking his tongue out at his sister again. He knew it was childish but he liked doing it to his older sister – from what he heard at school, he was the only one who could do that to the fierce Cheerios vice-captain of the _high school_ cheerleading squad, and still get away with it. Besides, he liked how the action made Quinn smile every time he did it.

"Fine, disown me and adopt her as your sister then, why don't you?"

"I would if I could," he retorted back, sticking his tongue out at her again. He had a few more choice words for his annoying sister but his parents wouldn't let him use naughty words at her sister - or anyone at all. Even though he heard her use them all the time when they were out of earshot, and had, in fact, learnt most of his repertoire of swear words from her. Unfortunately, he knew his mother was right behind him and would come in anytime now, so this childish gesture was the best he could do to annoy her. "Use your words," his mother always told him and he was actually quite proud of his clever little retort.

"You little brat!" Santana shouted, as she reached over to tickle him, being careful to keep him off Quinn's injured ankle.

"You can't get me!" He giggled as he ducked behind the flowers and crawled nearer to Quinn, knowing she would protect him from his sister's murderously ticklish fingers.

" 'Tana, 'Tino, knock it off! This is a hospital!" Maribel scolded as she walked into the chaos. Those kids of hers were one day going to be the death of her!

Although to be honest, she didn't really mind that much. She could see that her two children's typical sibling squabbles had already put an a smile on Quinn's usually face as the blonde watched their playful antics with an air of amusement. Santino's mischievousness was truly the best medicine for Quinn, she always seemed younger and more her own age when she was around with him.

Still, she had to behave like a mother, especially in this hospital where her husband worked. "Knock it off, guys! Don't you think you're too old to be squabbling like two five-year-olds? Santino, don't annoy your sister, and Santana, stop teasing your brother. Look at Quinn, why can't the two of you be as well-behaved as she is?"

Santana rolled her eyes at her mother's back. Her mom was such a nag.

"And don't you roll your eyes at me," she swiveled around to face her older child. She held up her hand to stop Santana from denying it when she saw her open her mouth to protest her unfounded accusation. "I don't need to be looking at you to know that was _exactly_ what you were doing behind my back."

Behind her, Santino stuck his tongue out at his sister, and shared a cheeky smile with Quinn.

Quinn smiled at him, and shuffled aside to give him more space to share her pillow and sit comfortably beside her on her bed. It felt good to be around the Lopezes again, even if just for a little while.

…

Dinner was once again a quiet affair. Under her mother's watchful eye, Rachel ate more than she had at lunch. Shelby never brought up the 3-pound weight gain or any plans to put her on food restriction, so Rachel didn't either. She also figured she might as well eat as much food as she was given now. Who knew how much food her new placement would be willing to feed her with? Especially if she continued with this run of misbehavior.

Throughout dinner, she kept glancing at the opposite corner of the table. There, lying under her mother's spectacle case, was her essay, the one she had written this morning. Her mom had obviously read it, she only wore her spectacles at home when she read the newspapers or documents with similarly small print. Rachel gulped. Maybe Shelby had changed her mind after all? Maybe she was going to get the beating of her life after dinner. For once, that thought did not fill her with dread, but with hope. Sure, a beating would hurt terribly but it would most likely mean that she would be allowed to stay at home too. Honestly, the more she thought about it, the more she wouldn't mind being permanently injured if that meant she could stay with her Mom forever.

However, now that she had had her sleep, she realized how selfish she had been this morning. This girl had indeed undergone horrible things - rape was so atrocious an act that despite her vivid imagination, she could scarcely imagine it, much less rape by her own father.

Moreover, hadn't Sharon said this girl was pregnant too? She knew her mom wanted a baby, she had said so herself that in New York, she had thought about getting her own baby, a little girl she could buy cute toys for and dress up in pretty little clothes. This girl, whoever she was, could give her mom that. Rachel's birth had prevented her mom from having any more children, but this girl could give her mother the baby she had always wanted, the baby that Rachel had prevented her mother from having. Sure, it wouldn't exactly be her own baby, but what difference did it make? Shelby could still buy toys and clothes for this baby, and as the baby of her foster daughter - possibly her adopted daughter in future - this baby would be sort of like her mom's granddaughter, the next best thing to a daughter, right? After Rachel had robbed her mother of her one chance at childbirth, how could she bear to rob her mother of her happiness as well?

How could Rachel compete with that? She had nothing like that to give her mom, and what she had supposedly 'gone through' with her fathers was a pittance compared to what this girl's father had done to her. This girl obviously needed her mother so much more. After all, Rachel would still have her to fathers to return to once the court case was over and they were proven innocent, whereas this girl's father had better not walk away scot-free after what he did to her. Her mother needed a girl like her too, more than she needed a useless bum like Rachel.

Still, her mom had mentioned room-sharing and it gave her hope that if she was good, maybe she could convince her mother to allow her to share the room with this other girl until she could return to her fathers. Maybe if she made herself useful and proved herself to be obedient and not too obtrusive, her mother and this girl wouldn't mind her presence intruding in on their little family. Shelby was her birth mother, after all. Surely that had to count for something, right? She just needed to play her cards right, and the easiest way would be during her punishment after dinner. Surely, if she showed how she was able to remain silent and motionless and accept the punishment submissively, her mom would be able to see her determination to be obedient.

Rachel's constant and not so subtle glances at her essay did not escape Shelby's notice, and she groaned inwardly at the painful conversation to come. How many more ways did she have to think up to say the words "I'm not going to hit you," before Rachel actually believed her? And when this girl joined them tomorrow as Sharon had said she most likely would, how would she react to this, to Rachel's constant expectation for physical punishment whether or not she had actually done anything wrong?

Maybe she should just act normally and subtly hint to Rachel that there was not going to be a punishment, she decided, as she washed the plates before handing them over to Rachel for her to dry them.

When the dishes were done, Shelby returned to the dining room and Rachel followed behind her. As expected, Rachel's eyes darted back to the essay on the dining table once more and this time, Shelby made sure Rachel knew she had noticed it.

"Do you have any homework to do?"

Rachel shook her head. "I've finished them all. There's a AP Calculus mock test coming up, though, and I could redo my practice questions again, make sure I can do them all accurately and before the time limit, giving me time to check my work as well." She already knew she could, but mainly, she just wanted to emphasize her academic diligence as well as the fact that she had learnt her lesson from yesterday and would try harder to be obedient in not doing anything vigorous, and doing her schoolwork if that was what her mother wanted her to do. Shelby needed to know she could keep out of her mother's way.

"Okay, you do that. I'm going to head back to the hospital to settle the paperwork with Sharon for this girl."

"I could go with you?" Rachel suggested, wanting to spend as much time as possible with her mom while she still could. Besides, it wouldn't hurt for her to go to the hospital and 'check out the competition', so to speak.

"No, it's okay, you don't have to come with me. If you get tired of redoing those practice questions and aren't sleepy yet, you might want to rearrange your room a little. If all goes well at the hospital and with CPS, she'll probably join us tomorrow or on Monday, so if you have the time, shuffle some of your things around so that she has space for hers, okay?"

Rachel's heart sank at her mother's words but she resolutely kept a smile on her face. "Yes, Mom."

At least her mom still allowed her to call her that.

…

Anthony Lopez looked in from the hospital window at his wife and children visiting with Quinn. They looked happy, and he wished he could be in there too, even if he were to just sit quietly in the corner and watch them, much like he was doing right now. Unfortunately, he didn't think Quinn would be all that comfortable around him, and he wasn't going to risk upsetting her when she looked so happy for once.

Hopefully, that would change with time. Just because he had refused to take her in did not mean that he did not want to continue to be a part of her life. Earlier that afternoon, Maribel had shared excitedly with him about how Quinn had started calling her "Aunt Maribel" and he smiled wistfully. Maybe one day, when he was no longer her doctor and had spent more time around her and talking to her, and after she had gone through enough therapy and was no longer so deathly afraid of all adult males, she would eventually feel comfortable enough around him to call him "Uncle Anthony" too. Until then, he was fine just looking after her as "Dr Lopez".

He watched the quartet closely. It didn't escape his notice that most of the noise was being made by his two children and Quinn mostly just lay there on her hospital bed, watching them squabble and smiling bemusedly at their antics. She didn't really say much, almost as if she was merely a spectator watching a show that she longed to be a part of. He tried to recall the sleepovers – it seemed that was something she often did around Santana and Brittany too. It was like she was always on the outside looking in, like she felt she didn't really belong.

However, Maribel had been right, Quinn did look very comfortable around them, more at ease than she had been at any other time of her hospital stay anyway. His big-hearted wife and carefree children were no doubt good for her, he could already see her shedding her defensive layers as she amused herself with watching Santana and Santino bicker away.

Seeing so much improvement in Quinn with just one visit, he couldn't help thinking that Maribel might probably have been right about Quinn adapting to his presence if they adopted her, and he wondered for the millionth time if he was being selfish. Should he reconsider his decision? So what if he didn't want to be occupy that terrible position of being Quinn's father? This shouldn't be about him, it was about Quinn and only her – what was best for her.

He sighed. He had made the decision, and he was going to stick to it. Just one placement, he told himself, and if that didn't work out, it wouldn't be too late to take her in then. Besides, even though he knew the social worker Sharon had been having some problems with Quinn's placement, she had just informed him that she might have finally found a home for Quinn after all. Hopefully, this home would work out and then he could get around to explaining it to Santana and Quinn.

He smiled wryly at yet another show of his cowardice, but honestly, with a daughter like Santana, who could blame him? Besides, it was what he and most other doctors often did when they had to break bad news. You never refuse someone without offering them an alternative. Need to tell a patient he's got an inoperable brain tumour? At least come up with a proper plan for his palliative care first. The list went on.

This wasn't a medical diagnosis and treatment plan, and it wasn't even to the patient Quinn herself, but oddly enough, the same principles still applied. Once he received finalized news about Quinn's alternative placement, it would make it easier for him to explain to his fiery daughter why it would be better for Quinn to stay with a foster family instead of with them. Santana hadn't broached the topic yet, but she didn't need to. She was his daughter, so he knew what she was thinking before she even opened her mouth.

He cast one last look at the happy family in the room, before tucking the file under his arm and walking away. Let Quinn have time of fun and bonding with his family, he decided. His bad news could wait a little while longer.

**A/N. Okay, so this cliffhanger ****was**** on purpose _this_ time. XD It originally wasn't there, but without it, this chapter felt like it had too much of Rachel's troubled thoughts and not enough action or plot progress. Heh. Please let me know what you think! **


	37. Woman Fierce

yuri barq - -patpat- I feel bad for her too ):

jake - There is some Rachel in this chapter, although it isn't really Quinn's chapter either, more like Shelby's, if I really have to choose one character. Although I have to say, I try not to let an entire chapter be about just one girl, so my chapters don't really belong to a single character. It's just that sometimes, a lot more is happening in one girl's life than the other. Like how, when Rachel was at the hospital, Quinn was safely squirreled away at the Lopezes at her sleepover. Rachel's world is falling apart around her now, but it's largely in her own head, nothing much is actually happening to her that I can really write about.

Frost47 - Your concern is noted, and don't worry, I agree with you and am trying to move the plot along too. I think that after the initial few days of the girls living together, the story should move along more quickly... At the very least, tell their stories together, instead of alternating between the both of them, would surely make my story telling at least twice as fast (:

jess - I sometimes wonder that too, but I think it also takes a pretty screwed up mind to believe that what her fathers did to her for the past 15 years was right and acceptable. I know she seems pretty hopeless now, but it's only been a few days since her rescue, and a pretty havoc few days at that. Give her some time to settle down and attend a few sessions of therapy first. She's a strong and very stubborn girl, and although that strong will has largely been warped and twisted thus far by her fathers, it will serve her well later on. As for comparisons, people can argue all they want, but I purposely wrote rather different backgrounds for the two girls so they can't really be compared. I didn't want either girl to think that "if the other had it so much worse but can still manage, then I should be able to as well."

NZgleek91 - Heh. I'm glad you found Rachel's actions realistic (: As for Quinn, I wanted to contrast it a little - Quinn doesn't really belong with the Lopezes but she's so much more comfortable and secure with them than Rachel is with her own mother. Hopefully, that will change with time (:

Shana - Sorry, heh. I'm curious, where do you think Quinn's sister is now?

CaitlinSeu - Sorry! XD

Comegetit - Thanks.

CarmellaD'Winter - I'm glad you liked the way I portrayed Rachel's mind, because that was my main purpose for writing this chapter (:

shiniso - Yup, it is. It'll all work out eventually, really but all I can say is, poor Shelby, haha. I really like all the Lopezes, mainly because they're the only sane family in this story (:

Sdmd1115 - I don't think Rachel will be able to resist it for much longer but although her confusion is going to last only a few days, these will be written in quite a bit of detail (i.e. a number of chapters), so hopefully you'll be able to feel her mental anguish as she goes through the next few agonizing days of thinking her mom is going to abandon her. She is, unfortunately, too used to taking orders from her fathers without questioning them, and not so used to talking things out with her mother yet.

renata - Wow, long analysis, and pretty accurate too, especially about Rachel. Just one thing I wanted to add - With Dr Lopez, I wanted to show how ironic it was that Dr Lopez was doing pretty much the same thing as Quinn - watching and not taking part. I really feel for him, that the rest of his family gets to bond and have fun with Quinn whereas he gets to be the bad guy and deliverer of bad news. To reward you, here's a little tidbit of information: The Lopezes will definitely be sticking around, and Quinn won't be the only one they'll be helping. Any guesses who else?  
As for myself, I'm still studying. I'm a medical student, and am halfway through my clinical postings, during which I rotate through various hospitals and clinics. I graduate in 1.5 years, after which I will be working in a hospital for at least the next 5 years.

GreenLemons - Are you talking about Aunt Maribel? I think Maribel has been more of a mother to Quinn these last few years than Judy has been and after Quinn was so afraid that she would never get to see Maribel again, she was so happy to see Maribel visit her and would call her anything she wants her to. She apparently really enjoyed that term of address (and I suppose, enjoyed Maribel's happy reaction to it) that she has decided to adopt it for good. However, I highly doubt she'll be as comfortable in calling Shelby anything familial, haha, much less 'Mom'. Shelby will actually come to know a lot more about Quinn's case, especially the medical aspects of it, since she's technically Quinn's guardian now, but Rachel definitely knows a lot about Quinn now, far more than Quinn knows about her anyway.

olacindy - She won't be able to handle it initially, but she'll adjust. They will definitely eventually form a genuine friendship too but of course, it'll take time, a couple of mishaps, and loads of drama XD

JWilson18 - They know each other from school and Quinn has been bullying Rachel for years. Recently, after the Slushy Fest, Quinn apologised to Rachel and so their relationship now is pretty undefined, although Quinn had seemed pretty determined to go back to hating Rachel after the other glee members started talking to her and Sue invited her (Rachel) to join the Cheerios.

lemon-rind - Thank you for saying there'll be no winner! Many of my readers have a pretty strong opinion on who has it worse but I try to write such that it's quite hard to compare the two girls. Anyway, I doubt the two girls would start such a contest, and even if they did, Rachel would lose because she doesn't even recognize that she had had it bad with her fathers.

SA03 - It isn't silly, and that was actually my intention XD I know, I'm pure evil. It's true that Shelby currently doesn't have any long-term interest in Quinn, just as a temporary sort of emergency placement but that can change. Quinn does deserve to be wanted but Shelby also needs some time and space to adjust. Her world has gone through huge, mind-blowing changes these past 2 weeks, and she needs time, as well as the reassurance and confidence that she can be a good mother to Rachel, before she can even begin to contemplate adopting another abused child.

Guest - That was my intention, yes. Otherwise, that chapter would have been pure depressing angst And I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, heh. It does get explained in this chapter (:

Emy - I'm glad you're excited to see the three of them living together. I'm excited too, haha :D

Rini - You mean they haven't been interesting so far? -pulls a sad face- Just kidding. The transition will take sometime, but they will eventually get to a point when they're sisters and good friends (:

Guest - I sense your frustration, which is totally understandable. Your question about Quinn gets answered here, but Rachel will continue being tormented by her over active mind for quite a while yet...

monprincess – Poor Rachel is going to believe that for awhile yet. Hope you like the new chapter (:

A.R2914 – Thanks! (:

Anon – They will eventually open up, especially in Rachel's case, once Rachel and Shelby realise how devastating the consequences of not opening up can be.

Guest – Glad to hear that (:

Chapter 35. Woman Fierce 

"Did you have a good visit with Aunt Maribel and Little 'Tino?"

"Yes, sir." Quinn bit her lip nervously. "You don't mind, do you, that I call her 'Aunt Maribel'? I mean, she said I could but…"

"I don't mind at all, I actually think Maribel loves being called your aunt. I think the only person who has a problem with their nickname is Santino who hates being called 'little' anything."

Quinn smiled. "Yes, which is why it's so fun to call him that."

"True." As Dr Lopez sat down beside Quinn's bed, his face grew more serious, and Quinn sighed. Of course, he wouldn't just be here to talk about nicknames. It looked like he had some bad news too and Quinn shuddered, thinking of the worst case scenario...

_As long as her baby was alright_, she prayed, as she waited with bated breath for him to continue speaking.

"Quinn, there's some things I need to talk to you about."

Quinn nodded, silently giving him permission to continue.

"Firstly, since you gave me permission to, I have already told the identity of your baby's father to the police. They have agreed to your request to wait until the baby's birth before carrying out DNA testing for the baby's paternity."

Quinn nodded again.

"That said, I feel that I should also share this information about the baby's paternity with your gynecologist, and I wanted to ask if I have your permission to do that as well."

"Why? Do you suspect there's anything wrong with my baby?"

"From what I understand, it's too early to tell. However, due to your relationship with the baby's father, she might need to do additional tests, just to make sure that everything is okay."

"Additional tests? Like what... Oh." Quinn stared down at her fingers. How could she have forgotten?

"Oh?"

"He's my father and I have 50% of his DNA, so any child from the both of us will have a higher chance of autosomal recessive diseases."

She noticed Dr Lopez's raised eyebrows and shrugged.

"Advanced Biology," she explained simply. "We also learnt in History about how intermarriages between the European royalty resulted in babies born with multiple birth defects."

"Don't worry about that yet, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, okay?"

Quinn nodded but her frown told him she was still worrying about it. He supposed it would be impossible for her not to, no matter what words of comfort he tried to say to her, so he didn't say anything.

"Yes, you can tell her," Quinn finally replied.

"Thank you."

"Did... Did you tell Maribel?"

"No, I haven't. Do you want me to?"

_Please say yes_, he thought to himself. It would make his life at home so much easier given how much his wife had been talking to him about Quinn and how suffocated he felt, knowing something so crucial about her but unable to share it with his spouse.

"No! Not yet. I... I think I will tell her myself eventually... I would rather she hear it from me than find out from the court case... but not yet."

All this was just too much, and she felt almost too young to even wrap her head around having a baby at her age, much less a disabled and sick one... She fought to keep the reason for her baby's high likelihood of disability out of her head. Everything was so overwhelming that she knew she would eventually need to tell somebody, anybody – an adult or a parental figure – but she wasn't ready just yet.

When she was though, as much as she hated the idea of tainting her relationship with Santana' mom, Maribel would probably be her best bet. She was the nicest person she had ever known, and she hoped she wouldn't judge her too badly for choosing to keep the baby.

Besides, she was pretty much the only parental figure in her life right now. Whether or not she told Maribel, there was no way she would be able to talk about this with any foster parent. That would most certainly be a sure way of chasing them off and causing her to be stuck in this hospital bed forever.

"Okay, sure. It's your choice, of course."

"Is there anything else? What's on that paper you keep folding and unfolding?"

"These are some of your test results. Do you want to know the details of your medical issues, or do you want me to just treat you?"

"From the STD panel you ordered yesterday?"

"Yes."

"I want to know everything," she replied quickly before she lost her nerve. From his nervousness in sharing the results with her and the necessity of treatment, she already knew the results were going to be bad.

He handed the piece of paper over, and she flipped through it, all the numbers and alphabets completely foreign to her. 'Negative', 'Non-Reactive'… Were those good or bad? On the last page, one result was highlighted in red.

'Chlamydia: Positive.'

She pointed at the result and showed it to Dr Lopez. Was this what he was so nervous about telling her himself?

Dr Lopez nodded. "Yes," he replied. It wasn't hard for him to read the question on her face.

"Is that the only positive result?" Quinn asked in a small voice. "I don't really understand the rest…"

"Yes, it is," he replied. "The rest of the test results are negative but you did test positive for a Chlamydia infection." He paused, wondering what the best way to say this was. "I know this is not what you want to hear but it isn't so bad. The infection is quite easy to treat, and your pregnancy sort of indicates to us that the bad complications like infertility haven't occurred yet. We can do more tests to confirm that after your baby is born"

Her hand went automatically to her abdomen. "What about now? Would it affect the baby?"

"This type of infection can affect the baby, which is why it's good that we discovered this early on in the pregnancy. It usually only affects the baby during childbirth but since we've caught it very early on, we can complete your treatment way and clear the infection from your system now, before you deliver your baby, so you won't pass it on to your child during birth."

Quinn nodded, staring down at her hands. Dr Lopez hadn't said it outright, but he didn't have to. She had a _sexually-transmitted infection_, her father had given her a freaking STD. Damn it! She thought of all the other ways he had forced her to have intercourse with him and felt sick in the stomach. She wanted nothing more than to wash her mouth thoroughly, then take another long shower and scrub all those areas raw again.

Pull yourself together! She told herself. Santana was, thankfully, not in the room, but she was waiting outside, and she didn't want to let her friend hear her break down. She was not going to break down again.

"What happens now?"

"The treatment comprises of a simple 1-week course of antibiotics to clear the infection. Normally, I would prescribe Doxycycline, but because you're pregnant, I'll be giving you Amoxicillin instead, which is better for the baby. Take 1 tablet 3 times a day, for 7 days, and you should be fine."

He knew Quinn wasn't really interested in what he would normally give other patients, but he wanted her to know that he was taking her pregnant status into account at every point of her treatment. It was, after all, what she seemed to be most interested in. As for the usual contact tracing, Quinn had already given him that information the previous night, and he really didn't need to bring it up again, unless she was the one who initiated it. He tried not to think about how reporting Quinn's previous sexual partners would inevitably lead to helping Russell Fabray get the medical treatment he needed for his infection as well.

Quinn nodded again, feeling relieved when Dr Lopez rightfully took that as his cue to leave after administering the first dose of the medicine.

…

_Finally, the paperwork was done._

Shelby yawned. It was only 9.15, but she was exhausted. With good reason too, because it had been a long day indeed. She thought she might drop by Room 44 first, to take a look at Quinn. She knew Quinn was probably already asleep, lights out in the pediatrics ward was at 9.00pm even if you were a teenage patient who was too old for a 9pm bedtime, but she just wanted to look in on her, to mentally prepare herself for tomorrow.

If she were honest with herself, the fact that Quinn was occupying the same room as Rachel freaked her out a little, largely because of all the bad experiences she'd had there. Part of the reason she wanted to visit Quinn was to help her collect herself. She needed to make sure that tomorrow, she saw Quinn and Rachel as two separate people and didn't let her memories with Rachel affect her interaction with Quinn.

Shelby made her way to the Paediatrics Ward, and walked towards the room she knew well by now. True enough, Quinn was sleeping soundly on her bed. She walked softly into the room. Beside Quinn, a Latina was sleeping on a makeshift couch. She looked the same age, probably a friend, she thought. If she was a friend, then she must be a pretty good friend to be spending the night with Quinn, and Shelby made a mental note to find out who she was tomorrow.

She looked around the room. It looked the same as she remembered. There was the bedside table that currently held a large bouquet of flowers, making Shelby realize with a pang that when it had been Rachel lying in the hospital bed, none of her friends had come to see her, much less bring her flowers or volunteer to stay the night with her. She recalled what Rachel had told her about the slushies and frowned. In the first place, she wondered, did Rachel even had any friends in school? Or a boyfriend? She hadn't asked her any of these questions before, and she berated herself annoyed at her negligence. What self-respecting mother doesn't ask her daughter such basic questions?

At least the pelvic examination had informed her that Rachel was a virgin, and the absence of periods meant that Rachel couldn't get pregnant. Unless she was like that friend of hers who had gotten pregnant even before menarche because her first ovulation had resulted in pregnancy, causing her to skip her first period... Okay, what was she thinking? Rachel was a good girl, she wouldn't get up to such things. Still a conversation about such topics wouldn't be remiss, Shelby realized with a groan, not just because Rachel was at that age but especially because she was inviting a pregnant teenager into their home...

_Focus on the task at hand, Shelbs_, she scolded herself, redirecting her attention to looking around the room. She knew she shouldn't stay too long, in case she woke one of the girls up. In the corner, there was the other table, with yet another vase of flowers, fake ones this time, and Shelby nodded. She remembered those too. However, something was different – there was something else placed beside the flowers. Curious, she moved closer to take a look.

Just then, a nurse came in to change Quinn's IV drip. Shelby waited for her to finish her task before asking her question.

"What are these for?" Shelby asked, pointing to the pair of wrist restraints on Quinn's bedside table. Despite her question, she could pretty much guess what they were, it didn't take a genius to do so. Her real question was, why were they in Quinn's room?

"Those wrist restraints?" The nurse asked, noticing them for the first time. "I'm not sure, there's no record of us ever having to restrain her… She can be moody but she's usually quite cooperative with us," she commented, as she picked up Quinn's case file, and flipped through the previous few Nursing notes.

"Oh, wait. This is probably it. Last night's, night duty nurse says here that she was 'uncooperative during her 4am vitals taking but calmed down and did not require use of restraints'."

Shelby's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What's the name of this nurse?"

"Jonathan."

"Is he in the hospital now?"

"Yes."

"Page him for me, please. Tell him I would like to speak to him."

"Okay…" She wanted to argue that he was probably busy and Quinn was her responsibility now, but this lady looked really scary. "I'll check if he's free and tell him to come up here."

"I'll be waiting outside the room."

Shelby drummed her fingers on her forearm as she waited. She wondered if she was going too far with this - She hadn't even met the girl, and yet, here she was, about to confront one of her nurses. Still, the thought of some nurse threatening to use wrist restraints on this girl, after all she had been through, disturbed her tremendously, especially after what she had read about had happened to her. One way or another, she needed to find out whether it was true, if only to either silence her overactive imagination or give her a reason to take her anger out on somebody.

From what she'd heard, this girl's mother had basically stood there and done nothing as her father heaped every kind of abuse in the book at her. She may not be the girl's foster mother yet, but she was about to be, and clearly, someone needed to look out for her. _If not me, then who? _She thought about how she had stayed by Rachel's bed side for all the three nights she had been hospitalized, and wondered how Quinn was doing all alone without a single parent on her side. She had a friend good enough to do the same for her, but Shelby knew it wasn't the same. When you're sick, you want your parents around, not just a friend.

She needed to do this, she told herself. Especially if this nurse was right, and a nurse last night had threatened this girl – _Quinn_ – with restraints… Well, someone was definitely going to pay. After all she'd been through, the hospital ought to be a safe haven for her, the one place she could recover and heal without fear of violence from anyone, much less one of the staff. Shelby almost wanted to wake her up now and take her home straight away, but she knew that she couldn't do that. She didn't have the right to do that yet, and such a rash action definitely wouldn't be appreciated by anyone. She needed to meet her first, to at least introduce herself. Rachel also needed an introduction, and definitely would not do well with a girl suddenly being brought home in this very night, especially if she hadn't had the time to clear her room yet. And most certainly, she couldn't leave Rachel alone at home and spend the night in the hospital with this girl – not only would she be neglecting her own daughter, Quinn would probably not get any comfort out of her presence anyway. As similar as their backgrounds were, Quinn wasn't Rachel.

No, Shelby couldn't change the fact that Quinn needed to stay at least one more night in the hospital but the least she could do was to make sure that she was able to feel safe and unthreatened throughout this night spent in the hospital. The girl probably had nightmares too, after all the trauma she had been through, and while just like with Rachel, Shelby couldn't do anything about the monsters within, she could, at the very least, do her best to remove all the external threats, to provide her with the safest environment possible.

Bottom line was, someone needed to look out for this girl and keep her safe, and that was now Shelby's responsibility until Sharon managed to find her a new and more permanent home.

"Hey lady. You wanted to see me?" A male voice beside her spoke up, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She turned to face him. "Are you Jonathan?"

"Yep. And who are you?"

"I'm Miss Corcoran. I understand that you were on duty looking after Quinn Fabray last night?"

"Yeah I was," he replied, recalling the hit that she had given him. _Thank God he wasn't in charge of her tonight._ "How are you related to her?"

"I'm her foster mother… well, I'm _going _to be her foster mother. I came by to check on her and to introduce myself to her but she was already asleep. Then I looked around the room and saw this, and your colleague here tells me that you wrote in her file that she was "uncooperative" but "did not require the use of restraints"."

"Oh yeah. I was taking her vitals, and it was 4am, so as per normal, I try not to wake the kids, because they can be difficult to put back to sleep. But she woke up when I was trying to take her blood pressure and I dunno, was annoyed at being woken up or something. She struggled pretty wildly and when I tried to hold her right arm down, the one around which I was trying to put on the BP cuff, her left arm flung out and she clocked me one right into my cheek." He pointed to his right cheek for emphasis, which sported a colourful bruise. "So I backed off and brought back a couple of restraints, but she was calmer when I returned, and I didn't need to use them, so I finished taking her vitals and I left."

"I see," were the only words Shelby could squeeze out of her mouth. It wasn't that she couldn't see where this nurse was coming, because she somewhat could – she had taught her share of bratty kids before, some of whom needed the use of direct threats before they behaved themselves. However, knowing now what she knew about what had happened to Quinn, it was hard for her to find it in herself to feel any sympathy for this nurse. A big strapping guy like him could take a punch from a slim girl like Quinn just fine with no damage done, and the bruise on his cheek would probably heal in no time. What was more significant to her was how psychologically traumatized Quinn must have felt being threatened with restraints like this, especially after what happened…

_Oh God. It must have been the BP cuff around her arm that had triggered this whole episode_, she realized. Quinn's school records had not shown a history of violence either, so she must have been really frightened to have actually punched this nurse. She had probably been groggy from just being woken up, probably had thought the BP cuff was some restraint he was using on her and freaked out… Damn it.

Stop jumping to conclusions, Shelbs! She took a deep breath to calm herself down before speaking again.

"What do you know about Quinn?"

"Not much. She came up at around 2am, doctor's orders said she needed 4-hourly vitals monitoring but not much else. IV cannula was already in, just the standard drip. She's self-ambulatory and not at risk of any falls. Her doctors didn't order any meds for her either…"

"What do you know about her as a person, not just as a patient?" Shelby cut in, annoyed. _What was with these hospital people and their medical talk?_ "What do you know about what happened to her, why she's in the hospital?"

Jonathan shrugged. "I don't know, not much. I was just standing in for a colleague, whose kid got sick, and also earning some extra cash by picking up an extra night shift. I don't normally work in this ward, so I didn't really try and find out more about these patients. Didn't need to, when all I did the entire night was take their vitals and watch them sleep."

He paused, noting the rage that was creeping up on Shelby's face. _Okay, this looked bad._

"I know I'm not supposed to just do that, Miss Corcoran, but I wasn't about to spend the entire night reading 30 new files when this isn't my regular ward and I was probably never going to see any of these kids ever again. I didn't _do_ anything to Quinn, she was the one who hit me first, and it's not like I hit her back. I backed off, followed protocol by warning her that I was going to use restraints on her if she didn't simmer down, and it worked – she calmed down, I didn't need to use the restraints, and everything went smoothly after that. No harm, no foul."

Shelby glared at Jonathan. Even if she somewhat understood his actions, she didn't get how he could be so cavalier about threatening a patient. Whoever allowed him to pick up an extra night shift in the paediatrics ward must have been out of his mind.

"Look at her," she ordered him. He moved so he was standing in the doorway beside Shelby and looked at Quinn. Besides her having a friend stay over in the hospital with her, he could see nothing else that was wrong or out of the place.

"She's got a friend over. So? Kids do that all the time, hospitals scare them. But she's a 16-year-old, there was no reason for me to think that she might be scared of a stupid vitals taking. She must have had at least a few of those downstairs in the A&E, where doctors and nurses run all over the place, which should have been way scarier than just me in this room in the dead of night."

_In the dead of the night is probably what scared her, dumbass,_ Shelby thought ruefully. _Especially given what usually happened in her own home when she was alone in the room with her father in the dead of the damn night._

"She has a friend over, not a parent, which you should be wondering about. Now, look at her wrists," Shelby ordered.

Quinn was curled up into a fetal position facing away from the door, and only her left wrist could be seen above the blanket. A bandage covered the entire circumference of her left wrist, and even though she hadn't seen it for herself, Shelby knew her right wrist probably looked the same too.

"It's bandaged, yeah, but I went nowhere near her wrists. BP cuffs go around the arm, and I was putting it around her right arm."

_I know, I'm not an idiot_, Shelby thought, disliking this nurse more and more. "Why do you think there's a bandage around her wrist? I'll tell you right now that her right wrist looks just like her left."

"How would I know? She's a teenager, and teenagers slit their wrists all the time, like the vampires they watch movies about, or it's some emo thing or whatever. She's in the hospital so I figure she's got plenty to be angsty about. The doctors didn't even put her on any antibiotics, so I figure those are just shallow cuts, nothing to worry about. What has this got to do with anything?"

"Read her chart."

He took the chart from his colleague, with a mumbled "Thanks". Damn, why did this lady make him feel like he was a small kid being brought into the principal's office after he had pulled a prank on his teacher? Her steely calmness was unnerving, like the calm before a storm, like she was leading you calmly into the slaughterhouse before she chopped off your head. He tried to put on a brave face as he opened the chart. He honestly hadn't done anything wrong. Sure, he should have read those charts fully instead of just reading off the doctors' orders, but nothing bad had happened and he had followed the protocol word for word when handling the situation of an uncooperative patient.

Shelby watched him closely. As he read the file, his face grew ashen and he lost his cocky, devil-may-care attitude. When he finished reading, he looked back at her, eyes wide and biting his lip.

At least he still had a heart, she thought to herself.

"I'm sorry," was all he could eke out. _Shit, what did I do to her?_

"Ten minutes. That's all the time it took you to read her file, all the time you had needed to spend last night, in order to avoid that whole unpleasant situation. Were you so busy on your night shift that you couldn't afford to spend that ten minutes, Mr Jonathan?"

He shook his head wordlessly. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," she informed him, in a voice that brooked no nonsense at all.

He nodded quickly.

Shelby knew that he had gotten the message on his own, and all she needed to do now was say it out loud, and drive home the point, just in case he had missed anything.

"She panicked when she woke up because what usually happens to her when she's woken up in the middle of the night by a man like yourself is horrifying and perverse. She struggled when you tried to hold her, because it made her remember what happened to her the last time she was held down by another man. She hit you when you kept the BP cuff around her arm because the last time someone tied something around her wrists, she was being restrained, so she could be beaten and brutally raped. And she's got a friend in there with her now because what happened with you terrified her so much, made her think of her own abusive father, that she, a 16-year-old girl, is now afraid of sleeping on her own."

She had made up some of it, of course, having never met Quinn before, but she was certain it wasn't far from the truth. Besides, it was effective, because now, the nurse was looking utterly distraught and remorseful and what he had done.

"Put these back where they belong, Mr Jonathan, and I trust that you'll come by tomorrow to apologise to Ms Fabray?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. See you tomorrow."

...

Rachel sat at the dining table, working on her Calculus problems and trying her best to concentrate, but her heart simply wasn't in it. It wasn't that she didn't like her room anymore, but it was just too painful to look at the empty spaces everywhere that she had cleared for the new girl. The loss of space was not the thing that was troubling her, but rather, what the loss of space meant with regard to the permanence of her continued living with her mom. She did not care for the room at all – she would move into the cupboard under the stairs like Harry Potter, and surrender the entire room to this new girl, if it only meant she got to stay.

The gates rattled open, startling her out of thoughts, and indicating that her mom was home. She packed away her books quickly and glanced over at the clock to check the time. It was still 9.50pm. Good, it wasn't bedtime yet. Her mom always made her go to sleep around 10, and she wouldn't have been happy if Rachel hadn't gone to bed on her own if it was already after 10.

"Mom," she greeted, as her mother walked in. "How did it go?"

"It went smoothly," Shelby informed her. "I've signed most of the paperwork, and I'll meet her tomorrow. Sharon tells me it's best if I met her on my own first, so I'll do that and once her discharge papers are settled, I'll bring her here and you can meet her then, okay? I see you're still busy with your schoolwork, so you can pack your things tomorrow morning instead while I'm out."

"I've packed my room already. I packed it before I came down to study and wait for you to come home," Rachel informed her mother.

"Really? Good girl. Now it's getting late, so let's go sleep, okay."

"Yes, Mom. I was just keeping my books."

Shelby picked up her spectacle case and essay and waited for Rachel to gather her books in one pile to facilitate carrying them back to her room. Once again, she knew Rachel was still throwing darting glances at her essay but she had no idea how to start another conversation about it. She was just too tired, especially after that encounter with Quinn's nurse that had made her wonder just what kind of a girl she was bringing into her home tomorrow. Hopefully, the fact that they were going to sleep now would be enough to convince Rachel that no, she wasn't going to get punished tonight either, and they wouldn't have to talk about this tonight.

_One day at a time_, she told herself.

"Come, let me help you with some of that," Shelby offered, picking the three thicker books off the top of the pile and making her way up the stairs. Rachel followed behind with the rest of it.

Once the books had been settled back on her table, Shelby looked around the room, taking note that Rachel had indeed cleared away half her shelves, half her desk and half her cupboard. She supposed she shouldn't have expected any less, Rachel really was obedient to a fault. Still, even if Rachel did not have anything to do tomorrow morning, she knew she should heed Sharon's advice and not bring her to the hospital tomorrow when she met Quinn for the first time.

Quinn might have seemed angelic in her sleep just now, but Sharon had mentioned she could get angry quite easily, and it wasn't that Shelby wanted to judge her based on the words of others, but on the off chance that she turned out to be angry and difficult, Shelby didn't want Rachel around for that. Rachel didn't need to be around any more anger, and hopefully Quinn could get most of her anger out of the system before Shelby brought her home to meet her daughter.

Rachel packed away her books efficiently and stood beside her Mom, unsure of what to do next. Her mom had told her to go to sleep, but she was still standing in her room holding that essay she had written and looking around her room. Rachel looked around too, everything was neatly placed, her mom couldn't find any fault with it, right? Maybe her mom was looking for something to punish her with. Her gaze dropped back to her mother. It didn't escape her notice that her mom was wearing her favourite belt again, the same one that she has dreamed about last night. It would hurt her plenty on its own, she thought sorrowfully, she didn't really need any more than that.

"You're done packing up? Good. I couldn't help but notice that you've cleared exactly half your space for the new girl. Thank you, Rachel. I know this is probably not easy for you."

'Not easy'? It was the hardest thing she had ever had to do, and that was saying a lot, given the high expectations that her father had had of her. Still, she nodded. That was what her Mom wanted, right?

"You'll only have to share a room with her for a few days, I promise."

Rachel swallowed hard. This was the first time her mom had given any indication to the limited amount of time she had left to spend here. She nodded again, grateful for the warning. It would help her prepare herself better mentally when it was time for her to go.

"Do you have any questions for me about her? Anything at all, I'll try to answer them as best as I can."

Rachel shook her head. _What else was there left for her to say?_

"Alright then, it's time for bed. Good night, Rachel," Shelby said, bending down to kiss her daughter on the forehead affectionately, a gesture she had gotten accustomed to in the past week. Rachel clearly hadn't, because as always, her eyes widened a little at the kiss, and her face wore a look of pleasant surprise. Hopefully, Rachel would get used to it, because Shelby planned to do it every night for as long as Rachel allowed her to.

Shelby made to leave the room once more but stopped when Rachel spoke again.

"You're really not going to hit me to punish me?" Rachel blurted out. Her eyes were fixed on the essay that was still in Shelby's hand, making it unmistakable that that essay was the reason for her question.

Shelby nodded. "I'm really not going to hit you," she affirmed.

"Okay," Rachel replied still deep in thought. "Thank you." _That was what she was expected to say, right?_

Despite her obvious hesitation, Shelby couldn't help but smile. It wasn't that she was glad that her daughter still had such deep-seated fears that still couldn't be erased by countless reassurances. It was that this was the first time Rachel was asking this on her own, the first time she looked even close to believing and accepting Shelby's answer. She couldn't help but feel a little thankful for that outburst. It was her first step on the road to recovery.

"Good night, mom," Rachel greeted as she turned and headed for the washroom, to brush her teeth before going to sleep as instructed. Tears shone in her eyes and threatened to fall, but she refused to let them. If her mom wasn't going to hit her, that could only mean that once this other girl arrived, her chosen mode of punishment for further misbehaviours would be to send her away. She had disappointed her mom one too many times, and this other girl was going to be her replacement in a few days' time.

It wasn't fair, she wanted to protest but she knew it was futile. How her mom wanted to punish her was her own choice, she had no right to protest to any of it. Not everyone was like her dads, able to tolerate her annoying presence. Her friendless state was proof enough of that. Not everyone was like Dad, possessing sufficient time and patience to punish her repeatedly for every misbehaviour. It only made sense for her mom to simply return her if her behaviour proved unsatisfactory. Why bother punishing someone you didn't intend to keep around?

There was only one solution to this. She had to prove to her mom that she was better than this girl, whoever she was. She had to prove she was smarter, more talented, more hardworking, and better behaved. Maybe then her mom would realize how hard she was trying to be good, that she could be worth keeping around.

Maybe then her mom would decide to keep her instead.

…

Santana sat up in her bed.

_Damn, that lady was good._

She had no idea who she was, but she had basically just waltzed in here, spotted a clue which Santana and her entire family had missed even though they had spent way more hours in the room with Quinn, then told that douchebag of a nurse off, practically reducing him to tears, without even having to raise her voice over a whisper. Quinn hadn't even woken up during the entire exchange.

Santana was oddly glad for that last bit. If she had been the one who had discovered the wrist restraints, she sure as hell would have yelled the roof down and probably swung a few hits in that asshole's face as well, which on hindsight wouldn't have been a very good idea, given that they were in a paediatrics ward surrounded by sleeping children. She wouldn't have given much of a crap about waking the sleeping kids up either, except that her Papi would surely have given her hell for raising a ruckus in the hospital, and maybe even banned her from staying the night with Quinn again. And after what she had heard about what had happened to Quinn last night with that nurse, Santana, definitely needed to spend every night here with Quinn until she was discharged.

Much as she hated it admit it, what that lady had done with that nurse, though, was a whole new level of mastery. Who the hell was she anyway?

Her iciness and her ability to break that strapping guy down with just a glare was truly impressive. It almost reminded her of Quinn when she was being HBIC, except that while such a quality was admirable in a Cheerios captain, who needed to handle both Coach Sylvester and the other bitchy girls, she definitely didn't want her traumatized and abused friend anywhere near that scary lady, much less living with her permanently. No way.

Why hadn't Quinn mentioned that she already had a foster parent? Maybe she didn't know? The lady that had said she "was going to be" Quinn's foster mother, so maybe it wasn't confirmed yet. She sure as hell hoped so. Hopefully, she would have enough time tomorrow to stop this and force her parents to adopt Quinn instead. That woman was truly freaky, man.

…

Quinn sighed as she tossed and turned in her bed. Her body clock had woken her up at 3.55am, warning her that she wouldn't want to be woken up that way again by the vitals-taking night duty nurse. Thankfully, the nurse was a female this time, not that scary guy whom she had punched.

The measurement of her vitals had gone smoothly enough, and Quinn found that she could keep herself calm as long as she watched the nurse's every movement so she would know what she was doing at all times, would see that the BP cuff, while constricting tightly around her arm as the machine got started up, didn't really tie her down to anything and could easily be removed with her left hand if she so wished.

The new female nurse had mentioned that her blood pressure and heart rate were apparently elevated, though, but hey, you can't have the best of both worlds, she thought, irritated. She should just be thankful she had escaped unscathed unlike that guy, and not complain so much.

Quinn looked over at the pot of flowers again, and just like the last dozen of times she had looked there, the wrist restraints were gone. Maybe the housekeeper had cleared it away? She hoped that was it. The only other possibility was that the male nurse had come to take it away, and the thought of that guy in her room again freaked her out slightly. She didn't really know why, Santana was in the room with her now, and even when she was alone in the room last night, he hadn't even done anything much to her, even after she had punched him. He had even told that he would only restrain her if she didn't cooperate but she couldn't deny that he still scared her.

He had been referring to the stupid taking of her blood pressure, damn it, not any of the perverse acts that her father had done to her. She shouldn't be so afraid over something so stupid. It was childish and weak and totally unbecoming of a 16-year-old.

She sighed. Whatever it was, she was just glad the wrist restraints were gone and she was going to make doubly sure that she didn't piss off any more of the nurses. She hoped no one ever found out about that punch either, since she was pretty sure punching one of their colleagues was no way to get into their good books.

The nurse returned to her room, and she glanced at the clock. 6am, like clockwork.

"You're still awake," the nurse commented. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," she replied as she watched the nurse exchange her depleted bag of IV fluids for a new packet. Except unlike yesterday, this time, she also had a syringe of medicine to inject into her bag.

"Antibiotics," the nurse explained, when she noticed where Quinn was looking at. "It's for your uh… infection. You do remember when Dr Lopez explained your test results to you last night, right?"

Quinn nodded. How could she forget?

The nurse made short work of injecting the medicine into her IV plug, and Quinn waited until the nurse had left before slumping back onto her bed with another sigh. She closed her eyes, wishing once more for sleep to rescue her from her thoughts. 1 week of antibiotics was actually really not that big of a deal but that wasn't what was bothering her. It was knowing that her father had given her a sexually-transmitted disease that just made her feel dirty and used once again.

She might have run away from him, might have even sent him to jail, but it didn't matter. He was here in this room, he was still all over her, and it wasn't just psychological crap in her head either – his germs were still growing inside her, despite the many times she had washed herself and it felt like she would never ever be rid of him.

At least this nurse had also dropped off a fresh set of hospital gowns. Making up her mind, she grabbed them and headed to the washroom for yet another shower, hoping against hope that this time, it would help her feel just a little bit bit cleaner.


	38. Don't burn bridges

lemon-rind - The unpredictability is what makes things dramatic and fun, right? :P

JWilson18 - Glad you enjoyed it. In order to prevent further outrage, I wanted to show the nurse's explanations and reactions at the same time as I showed him getting the talking-to he needed. He honestly didn't know, and although that is not a valid excuse, it doesn't make him heartless, inhuman or cruel, just flawed.

Alese222 - Oh wow, what high hopes you have! You're really excited. I really hope I can manage to meet at least half of them XD

NZgleek91 - Glad you liked that (: I think Rachel's reaction might annoy many readers, but we'll see how it goes (:

faberryluving - I'm sorry you didn't like the pregnancy. I hope the cessation of reviews doesn't mean you've stopped reading?

SA03 - Yay! I'm glad you liked her. Yes, it's the beginning of her taking a stronger interest in Quinn. I think her protective feelings towards Quinn and advocacy for her will surprise even her. She really would make a good mother (:

Shana – Aww, I'm glad I'm not that predictable :P I wanted to show the 'Coach Corcoran' side of Shelby. She's been thrown entirely off her game this whole time, being new to Rachel, and new to being a mother, especially a daughter like Rachel, and I wanted to let her vent a little. Not just to let her anger and frustration out but also to let 'Coach Corcoran' out to play, give her something to do that she was good at. Being a teacher, she's definitely good at pointing out errors and telling people off, and I hope I made her sound 'teacher-y' enough (as opposed to Santana's 'Lima Heights' style, haha). As for Santana, I think that despite how fierce she normally is, she finds people who are able to scare others without yelling and screaming, scary. I think she'll eventually get over it, haha, although her fearful awe is very fun to write for now XD

Comegetit - Okay, thanks.

sdmwd1115 - Wow, you have looked really far ahead and are very worried for their futures! Please don't apologise for your rant; your enthusiasm makes me very happy! As for Quinn, although it is tempting, I will not be using her story to talk about how foster children are often rotated through multiple foster families especially when they're as difficult as Quinn. It would surely make for an interesting story, but none of the Lopezes would never let that happen to her. (:

imaginethefire - Yes it does, a little, but it's valid if that's how you really feel. How do you think she should "get a pair of balls"?

CarmellaD'Winter - Glad you liked it (:

iceygaze - It makes me really sad too, and it's very hard to write, especially when I'm also writing how much Shelby loves her.

BellaDora Soulmates - Whoa. Don't worry, Shelby can handle Santana :P I'm glad you agree with me that Quinn and Rachel need each other (:

renata - Thanks for yet another long review! I really don't want to give you any spoilers, so I'll just say I'm really glad my characters clearly mean so much to you too (: Quinn doesn't have AIDS, and yes, she will start to think further ahead to when the baby is born, now that she's no longer focused on the fear of her parents finding out, and actually has adults in her life to talk to about these things. However, before that can happen, hell will most certainly break loose when Quinn moves in with Rachel and Shelby, and everyone has to work out how to deal with this new change in family dynamics and figure out their own place in it. As for me, I'm still far from getting my degree, and I hope to become that kind of good professional (:

olacindy - Yup, I wanted to contrast Shelby's more adult calmness with Santana's more rash teenage ranting and raving. Nothing is wrong with either approach, but as angry as Shelby was, she did try to see things from the nurse's perspective and help him learn something in the process. Glad everyone is humouring my age-based stereotypes, haha (:

CaitlinSeu - Santana will get to meet Shelby, although I'm not sure she will really realize how great Shelby is. Maybe later, once they've had some time to interact more (:

shiniso - I think that Shelby, as a teacher, would have a heart for children - or teenagers, which makes up a majority of her student population. (I don't think her impatient nature makes her suitable to teach younger children, heh.) Santana is not going to always get her way (like with Quinn's pelvic exam) and one of the things I also wanted to show was the Lopezes' parenting style and dynamic. Don't worry too much about Rachel, she will explode soon enough. She is not very subtle and I don't think she can keep all her convoluted thoughts and feelings inside for much longer!

Rini - Haha, that's the point, I think. To give you a taste of the lovely yet crazy daughter that Shelby has to deal with :P Everyone has such high expectations of when Shelby brings Quinn home, and I really do hope I can live up to those expectations (:

Guest - Yes, it would. If it'll comfort you, Quinn having a sick or deformed baby will require me to write another 100+ chapters describing how she deals with the birth and upraising of this baby, and I'm not quite up to such a mammoth task.

monprincess - Thank you! I feel honored, haha (: Yes, I would die too, if any of these happened to me. Despite how whiny Rachel might seem, or how bitchy Quinn appears to be, they're both incredibly strong girls, who've had to survive incredibly horrible childhood experiences.

GreenLemons - True, I usually don't just mention things. :P I'm glad you love Shelby looking out for Quinn. She's got a tough job ahead, but she's strong and has a good heart (:

Guest – DNA testing of a baby carries risk, which Quinn was unwilling to take. Anyway, they already have sufficient evidence of rape, so although the DNA testing would be further hard proof, it's not so essential in this trial.

Anon – Haha, yea. Woman fierce. Marley Rose is so _not_ fierce, but Shelby definitely is, and not just because she can lecture the nurse and make him feel remorse for what he did. (: She's one tough lady.

Guest – Thanks! I've added the missing trigger warnings. As for the characterization, what I was aiming for was to retain their basic characters but changed based on their different backgrounds/childhoods. For instance, Rachel is still dramatic, talented, determined, passionate, stubborn, hardworking, as well as socially awkward and insecure, but because she grew up with these AU abusive fathers instead of the canon doting, loving, almost pampering fathers, she now behaves quite differently. I'm not sure how much that shows in my writing, heh.

**A/N. This was supposed to go up next week, but I rushed to get it ready. The reason is, I've been in somewhat of a writing funk, and although MTLover has been helping me to push through with my writing (Thank you, dear!), it's going slow. I'll try not to go on a break, but I think, at the very least, the interval between chapters will be moving closer to 2 weeks than the current 1 week, and the chapters might get shorter (Sorry! I would love to say 'Please don't yell' but I guess you can yell if you want, though I can't force out words that refuse to come out...). I wanted to get this chapter out within this week, though, so that I could deliver this warning/apology. Sorry about that! And I hope that despite how hard it was to write this chapter, you'll enjoy it anyway (:**

Chapter 36. Don't burn bridges

Quinn listened as Santana told her about last night's mystery woman and her "take down" of the male nurse. She had initially felt disgruntled and annoyed that not only had this woman whom she had never met known way too much about her for it all to have been guesswork, she had also announced the events of last night to her friend. Santana really didn't need to see - or hear - even more stories about how weak she was.

Quinn sighed. She kind of wished she had been awake like Santana had been. Not only to hear 'Ms Scary Lady' take the male nurse down a peg or two, but also to see what she looked like. She considered herself to be quite a good judge of character, and if she was going to live with this woman for at least awhile, it would have been nice to be able to observe her and her interaction with others, to see what kind of person she was, how she should behave around her.

She half-listened as Santana repeated once more how scary she had been, although honestly, she didn't sound too bad. She could handle a strict parent, she thought to herself. After all, she had been striving to meet her parents' impossible expectations for the better part of her life, and had actually managed to satisfy them most of the time. This woman couldn't be much worse, and at least she had even cared enough for her well-being to tell off the nurse who had threatened her. That was definitely more than her mother had done for her even while she _watched_ way more horrific things happen to her than just a well-deserved threat, Quinn thought bitterly. It was remarkable too, that this woman had stood up for her even before she had even met her, before the custody procedures were approved. That, to Quinn, made her way more cool than some 'icy stare' that Santana was still raving on about.

"What was her name again?"

"She said her name was Ms Corcoran, but didn't give a first name."

"Hmm," Quinn hummed noncommittally.

Corcoran? Quinn ran that surname through her mind trying to recall if anyone her father ever talked about or anyone she knew at school had such a name, but could come up with no one. It did make sense that the name was unfamiliar to her. A woman whose name she recognized was most likely also someone whom her father knew and had ammunition against to blackmail into refusing to take her in. She supposed this was good. Strangers were good. Quinn _Fabray_ had made many enemies but she was just Quinn now, just Quinn with no last name. Living with strangers who had no connection to her father would hopefully allow her to start afresh.

"Are you sure you don't know her?"

"Nope, never heard of her in my life."

"Maybe she's new to Lima. She dressed different – not flashy or anything, just a simple blouse and slacks, but her clothes were classy. Like a New Yorker, or somewhere equally fancy. Didn't really look local."

"That'd be cool."

Santana looked at her incredulously. "_Cool_? You seriously think so? A scary lady from New York who swoops into your hospital room in the middle of the night, without having even met you before, somehow knows _everything_ about you including what happened to you and that asshole nurse last night, even though you say she wasn't here, and then goes on to scare said asshole nurse, who also happens to be as big and muscular as a footballer, into almost shitting in his pants, with just steely glares and without even having to raise her voice above a whisper... That is _so_ not my idea of 'cool'."

Quinn almost laughed. Santana was clearly pretty awed by this lady, she normally would never have said such a long sentence in a single breath.

"Don't freaking laugh at me, it's _not_ funny, okay? Wait till you see her for yourself later, I'm telling you, she's damned scary, and _I_ am a girl who's used to dealing with Coach Sylvester. Anyway, you're the one who's going to move in with her, we'll see how funny you think she is later when she's busy sucking all the blood right out of you."

Quinn shrugged. "It's not like I have much of a choice, right? At any rate, she's got to be better than Russell and Judy."

"Those assholes? _Anyone_ would be better than that fucking bastard and heartless bitch-"

"Yeah, S, I am well aware of your opinion of them. I've heard it countless times from you, there's really no need to go off on a rant to show off your extensive vocabulary of swear words to me."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Still…"

"I _know_ they aren't exactly the gold standard of parental excellence but what I meant was, at least anyone will seem good in compared to them, right? Whoever and wherever is fine, really, please don't make a big deal out of it."

"Like hell I won't, especially since _you_ obviously aren't going to protest. I still don't get why you stayed with those f- with _them_ for so long anyway. Don't you have any sense of self-preservation at all? Why didn't you just run to my house the first time he ever laid a hand on you?"

_Because I don't even remember the first time he ever hit me_, Quinn thought, glaring at her friend, even though she knew that Santana, with her loving parents and safe home couldn't possibly understand what it had been like for her. _Because he's been hitting us since I was old enough to remember, since way before I moved here._

"Look, I had my reasons, so just _drop_ it, alright? And don't go threatening this Corcoran woman either. I really don't have that many options for families to stay with – not many families are open to taking in a pregnant 16-year-old, so promise me you won't go chasing her off with your 'Lima Heights' threats."

"Fine." Santana conceded. At the very least, it was nice to see Quinn's classic icy glare return to her face once more. Not as scary as that lady's had been, but similar. Hey, maybe the two of them would turn out to be a match made in heaven.

Santana wasn't going to yell at this woman, she had promised Quinn, after all, and truth be told, she was a little too scared of this woman to yell at her. Still, a few well-chosen words of warning wouldn't be out of place, but not before she yelled at her parents first about why the hell they weren't adopting Quinn and were allowing her to move in with some strange freaky Ice Woman.

New York, huh? Wherever this woman was from, she sounded pretty well-off and Quinn wondered why she would be taking in foster children if she didn't need the money. Maybe she had really just moved in from New York and just wanted low-maintenance teenagers to fill the house? Sort of like tenants whom she could control. It somewhat made sense - being from somewhere outside of conservative Lima would probably make her more receptive to adopting a pregnant teenager as well.

Whatever it was, as long as she remained as unfriendly as Santana seemed to suggest, she would probably - hopefully - get along fine with her. Icy was good. She understood that she would need to obey and be respectful or whatever, she probably wouldn't be allowed to be as rude to her as she had been to the psychiatrist and other hospital workers - she wasn't dumb.

What about her family, would she be expected to be respectful towards her children too? God, she hoped she didn't have kids. Especially not bratty kids younger than her, having to listen to me would be a huge pain in the ass. Probably not, she figured. No self-respecting woman from New York would ever move her family to a shitty cowtown like Lima, Ohio. It just wasn't done.

Quinn sighed. Whatever it was, it didn't seem like she had a choice. This woman, whoever she was, had probably been hard to come by and Sharon had probably had to look really hard to find her. She didn't even sound all that bad. As long as she behaved herself and kept out of her way, hopefully this woman would just leave her alone. She had her own car, and enough of her own money, she didn't need anything from this woman except a place to stay and a signature on a form saying she was her guardian. Hopefully, she was as icy as Santana seemed to suggest earlier, and she wouldn't bother with any of that touchy-feely warm-your-heart crap either. Maybe she could break the typical foster children pattern of being moved from home to home, and get to stay there for some time, because she sure didn't want to end up back here in the hospital again.

…

"Santino, stay here with Quinn. Look after him for me, Quinn, alright? Make sure he doesn't run off, please. This will only take a couple of minutes."

"Yes, Aunt Maribel."

"Mami..." Santino whined. "I'm almost 13 already, I do _not_ need looking after. Besides, Quinn is the one who's sick so _I_ should be the one looking after her!"

"Sure, sure. So you make sure you keep Quinn company and don't leave the room, otherwise she'll feel really sad and lonely, okay?"

"Of course!" Santino declared proudly and Quinn stifled a giggle. Santino was just too cute for words.

He waited until his mother had left the room before rushing to Quinn's side. "Do you need anything? Are you thirsty? Have you had your breakfast? Was the hospital food just simply awful?"

Quinn shook her head, smiling. "No, I'm fine," she told him as she grabbed the railings of her bed to pull herself up into a sitting position.

"What are you doing?" Santino cried out. "Mami says you're sick and I have to look after you and you should be resting!"

Quinn wrinkled her nose at him as she settled in and leaned against her pillow. "But I just woke up and I want to watch television."

"There's television here?" Santino squealed excitedly. "Is there cartoons? Sunday cartoons are the best! "

Bingo! Quinn laughed. Stick the boy in front of his Sunday cartoons and there was no way he was going to leave the room anytime soon.

"It's the children's ward, there's nothing else on _besides_ cartoons. Why don't you climb up here onto my bed. It's more comfortable than the chair and you can see the screen better," she told him as she flipped through the channels.

"Yay, there's Scooby Doo!" he exclaimed, as he settled in beside Quinn. Quinn put the remote control down on his lap and couldn't resist ruffling up his hair a little.

"Quinnnn," he whined, smoothing his hair back down, but already, he was engrossed in his favorite cartoon.

Quinn smiled at him and let him be. Even at 12, cartoons were still his best babysitter, although they wouldn't be, soon enough. When his voice started to break and he started to grow taller, when he started noticing girls and hitting the gym everyday to build muscles like all the other high school boys... Until then, Quinn was going to treasure 'little Tino' as much as possibly. He truly was like the little brother she had never had.

She leaned back on her pillow, wondering what Santana was saying to her parents. She knew Santana objected to her having to move in with Ms Scary Corcoran but she honestly didn't think it would be that bad. She hoped her friend wasn't giving her parents too hard of a time about it. They were good to her, and had been really good to her during this period of time. She didn't want them to think she was ungrateful, and she didn't want them to stop being nice to her. After all, there was a reason why it had been the Lopezes she had sought help from, and they were the only ones, beside her little baby, who were making this whole experience bearable.

…

"You knew!" Santana yelled. "You knew Quinn needed a home to stay in and you didn't agree to take her in! Instead, you let some freaky woman come waltz in here and whisk her away. What do you even know about her, huh? How do you know she won't mistreat Quinn just like Russell and Judy did?"

"I know Shelby, and I trust her. She is not like Quinn's parents, she wouldn't mistreat Quinn," Dr Lopez reassured his daughter in a low voice, trying to calm her down.

"They weren't her parents, they were fucking monsters! And you guys thought the exact same thing about those assholes but it all turned out to be bullshit! She is not getting fucked over by another asshole just because you're too scared to do what's right. You're just being a coward again!"

"Watch your language, Santana Lopez," Maribel cut in sternly, appearing from behind to check in on her husband and daughter. And it looked like she was just in time too. "That's your father you're talking to."

"But he..."

"Stop talking and _think_ for a moment, Santana. In all the past 16 years that you have known your father, Santana, does he strike you as a coward?"

Santana thought back to everything she knew about her Papi. No, he wasn't a coward. He was the strongest, bravest man she knew, or at least, that's what she had always thought. He never was one to speak much, he had always been a doer rather than a speaker, but he always did what was right, at whatever cost to himself. When it was necessary, he would speak out too, especially against injustices on his patients. Well, Quinn was his patient too, and not just his patient, but her friend as well. Why wasn't he helping her?

"No," she conceded. "He isn't. But you weren't here that night, Mami. When Quinn needed to be examined, he also backed away from it. He wanted to let some other strange doctor do it, even though Quinn had asked _him_ to do it. I had to yell at him and beg him to, otherwise he would have just let that other woman doctor examine her, just like how he's letting some strange woman take Quinn away now. He was too scared to examine her that night and he's still too scared to take her in now. But it's not fair! He's not the only one who's scared, I am scared too! And Quinn is the most scared of us all! Did you know some male nurse tried to threaten her with restraints the night before because she was frightened when she woke up? She was probably scared because he was a stranger to her, and any foster family she goes to live with will be strangers to her as well. The only ones who aren't strangers to her is us. She knows our house, she knows everyone in our family, she should move in with us! I'm her friend, she obviously trusts the both of you, and Santino hero worships her!" she concluded triumphantly.

"You said it yourself, the nurse was male," Anthony calmly pointed out to his daughter, while making a mental note to find out who this nurse is and have a long chat with him.

"So?"

"After what happened to her, I don't think she would be comfortable living in the same house as any adult male, no matter how much she appears to trust me. Although, trust me, I'm going to find out who this nurse is and confront him about his behavior."

Santana took a deep breath to slow down her racing heart, and paused for a moment to think. It was true, too, somewhat anyway. She remembered when Quinn had first seen her father that night. Even though he had not done anything to her, she had been so afraid of him and had even tried to escape back out of the window, even though she should have known that she wouldn't have gotten far in her weak and exhausted state.

She, Santana, might know that her Papi was a kind and gentle man, but Quinn probably didn't know that. Seeing Quinn so afraid of him had broke her Papi's heart that night, and for the first time, she began to see that his not wanting to take Quinn in might be for legitimate reasons, not just because he was "scared".

She jerked her head in a nod, unwilling to give in just yet.

"I assure you, 'Tana, I care a lot for Quinn too. And our decision to not take her in was not one we had made lightly. We, too, have Quinn's best interests at heart, and this decision is what we feel is best for her. This woman is single and lives with her daughter, and we feel the absence of males in her house would be more comfortable for her."

Santana crossed her arms in front of her chest, still not entirely convinced.

"You were here with me that night, 'Tana. After her initial fear of me had passed, do you remember how she responded towards me in the Emergency Room?"

"She was angry. And defensive. And she had every right to be! She sniped at that idiot resident of yours who mucked up a simple blood draw and snarled at the nurses but that was just because she was still scared and didn't want to be in the hospital! Because _you_ called for an ambulance even though she had already said she didn't want to go to the hospital."

"You know you agreed with that decision, so don't start in on me about that now," Dr Lopez told her sternly. "You know as well as I do that we didn't know how injured she was, whether any of the injuries were life-threatening, and I wasn't about to let her bleed to death in our house, on your bed. At any rate, she was most worried about her baby and I had no equipment with which to examine her baby, so we needed to get her to the hospital to do that as well."

Santana nodded. Papi was right about that, she supposed.

"You remember rightly that she initially didn't even want to stay in the hospital much less allow me to check her over. Do you remember how we managed to get her started?"

Santana thought for a moment. "You gave her options. She wanted her blood taken first, so that resident of yours did that. After that came the physical examination, and then you convinced the police to let you sit in when they got their statement, so she didn't have to repeat her story twice and she only had a few more questions from you to answer after that."

"That's right. I didn't just tell her what to do. I let her know what needed to be done but I also gave her options, not just to ensure that she was as comfortable as she possibly could be in such a circumstance, but also to let her know that she was in control here, and no one was going to order her around or make her do things she doesn't want to do."

"She could have just said no if she didn't want to do what you told her to. You're just her doctor, she doesn't need to listen to you."

"Precisely. I am _just_ her doctor, so she doesn't need to listen to me. However, if I were to become her foster father, she would have a much harder time disobeying me, and that wouldn't be healthy in a doctor-patient relationship. Her autonomy should come first, she shouldn't be made to feel like she has to do what I say because I hold power over her, because I'm in a position of parental authority."

"I don't get it. If you tell me to do something and I don't want to do it, I tell you and explain my reasons why. You never really begrudge me the right to argue with you, except that I should uh, keep my language respectful and free of swear words."

Maribel smiled, understanding that that was Santana's way of apologizing for her coarse language earlier when she had been too agitated.

"True. And you certainly use your right to argue with me very liberally. However, from the glimpses of Quinn's home life that I have seen so far, I don't think her father - or Russell, if you prefer - was one who allowed much arguing in the house. If I were to become a father figure in her life, she wouldn't feel like I'm giving her a real choice anymore. She would probably just do anything I told her to, which is not something I want."

Santana nodded, recognizing the truth to her father's words. Even when Coach was absolutely unfair and yelling the most impossible instructions at them, Quinn never hesitated to carry out her orders. Despite her air of superiority around her peers, she was one of the most obedient students in school, when it came to obeying the instructions of other adults.

"Are you saying that you just want to be her doctor and not her father, because being her father would complicate your being her doctor?"

"Yes. I'll be her doctor, your Mami will be her Aunt Maribel, you will continue to be her friend and Santino will be..."

"... her biggest fanboy?" Santana suggested.

"Yes," her father agreed, laughing. "And Shelby will be her foster mother."

Santana scowled. "I still don't like that I know nothing about this woman."

"How did you hear about her anyway? I'm sure Sharon hasn't even informed Quinn yet, although she's planning to, later this morning, when Shelby comes round."

"She came to Quinn's room last night. She didn't talk to Quinn but she looked around the room and spotted a pair of wrist restraints in the corner of the room, and confronted the male nurse about it. His name is Jonathan, and you really should give him another good scolding later on. He woke Quinn up last night when he was taking her blood pressure, and she was frightened, I guess. Maybe she thought he was her father, I don't know. Anyway, she hit him and he threatened to restrain her. That's apparently how the restraints got there."

"I most definitely will speak to him later about this," Dr Lopez reassured his daughter. "How did she handle it?"

"She was very calm. Not didn't-give-a-damn calm, but more like eerie calm. It was scary, much scarier than even yelling would have been. Anyway, she eventually made him look at Quinn's file to find out why she had reacted so badly to him and he was really _really_ sorry. I swear, if his colleague wasn't looking at him, he might have started crying right there and then."

"That bad, huh? Maybe I should send you to live with her for a while. You could keep Quinn company and she could help me straighten up your attitude, maybe even get you to stop using swear words and your fists to settle all your disagreements."

"Papi! Be serious! Quinn is really fragile right now and this woman is super freakishly scary, that is definitely not a good combination! Couldn't you find someone, I don't know, more tame?"

"I think Shelby is exactly what Quinn needs at this point in time. She's a strong lady, and Quinn needs that in her life right now. She needs to know that despite everything horrible that has happened in her life so far, she can turn to her foster parents about it, that they can handle talking about and dealing with all these hard issues that she currently has to face with. As for her being so scary..."

He tried to think of a way to explain how he knew Shelby without giving away Rachel's secrets. "Do you remember when you caught me scolding the medical students that time?"

"Yup, you were really harsh with them, it was like you were totally a different person. One of the girls even cried, I think."

"Precisely. People act differently when they are angry but she is normally a very kind person. She has a daughter, and I've seen how she is with her. She might get all fierce when she thinks that someone is hurting her, but that's only because she loves her daughter very much. I have no doubt that she will care for Quinn too, and now that you've told me about how she stood up for Quinn against the nurse who threatened her, I'm even more sure of that."

"Fine," Santana conceded, unable to find an argument against that. She realized the argument was pretty much over, and there was nothing she could do to change her parents' mind. She really hoped her Papi's faith in this woman was not misplaced.

Dr Lopez nodded. Despite his firm words and his daughter's surrender, however, he still harboured his own doubts about Quinn's placement. Did Shelby really know what she was getting herself into?

He recalled hugging Santana the night he came home after looking after Rachel, how he had wanted to keep Santana innocent of the evils in this world for as long as possible. It seemed that the fates had other plans, though, bringing Quinn into their home, their life like that. In a way, Quinn was worse off than Rachel - she had the trifactor: Physical, Emotional and Sexual abuse. And to top it all of, she was pregnant, impregnated by her own father. Oh God, even he wished he could be kept ignorant of the fact that such evils could exist in the world, and not just exist, but all befall on one girl.

And now, the fates had outdone themselves, bringing Quinn into Rachel's life. Everything he had said about Shelby was true, he really did admire her for how well she had been handling being Rachel's mother, despite the immensely difficult circumstances surrounding Rachel's transfer of custody and Shelby's own lack of experience at parenthood. She was definitely one strong lady but could _two_ abused teenagers, each with their own unique set of medical problems and psychological trauma, prove too much for her? Could she really handle such a Herculean task?

...

"Hello, Quinn, Hello, Santino," Sharon greeted as she entered the room.

"Hi," Quinn greeted shortly, at the same time as Santino, who greeted "Good morning, Ms Sharon" quickly, flashed a big smile at the social worker, then turned back to the television hurriedly, not wanting to miss another second of Scooby Doo's exciting adventures.

Sharon walked over to Quinn's side of the bed, so as not to disturb Santino's television watching.

"Where's Santana?" Sharon asked, looking around the room. She could see Santana's messy couch in the corner but the girl wasn't in it.

"Yelling at her parents."

"Oh?"

"She found out about _Ms Corcoran_ and wasn't too happy about that."

"Ms Corcoran? How did she... and you...?"

"Ms Corcoran came by last night. She introduced herself to the nurse as my foster mother. She didn't talk to us, just looked around, and then she yelled at a nurse about... something. Santana didn't like that."

Shelby yelling at a nurse? What about? However, it didn't look like Quinn Really wanted to talk about that, so she made a mental note to enquiry about that later.

"I see. And how do you feel about her?"

Quinn shrugged. "I didn't see her, so I don't exactly have an opinion about her. But I'm guessing my opinion doesn't really matter either, since I don't have much of a choice in this."

"Of course your opinion matters. My job here is to find you a home where you feel comfortable and happy and are well looked after. If you're not happy there, I'll help you find somewhere else, I promise, irregardless of the shenanigans Russell is trying pull. However, I also want you to try your best to be nice and give yourself and Shelby some time to get used to each other. Shelby is a really nice woman and I think she can help you."

"Fine."

"Do you have any questions for me?"

Quinn shrugged. Like she said, it didn't matter what she knew or didn't know. Even if the hospital felt safer than home had ever been for her, especially now that Santana and mystery lady had helped her chase away gossiping medical students and mean male nurses, she knew she couldn't hide out in the hospital forever. She had had her time to be frightened and be weak and cowardly, had spent the last two days moping around being useless and pathetic and it was time to just stop this crap, to go back to normal. If not for herself, then for her baby - she needed to settle into a proper home before her delivery so that she would have somewhere nice to raise her baby in.

For her baby.

There was, however, one last question that she still wanted an answer to. "What is she like? How did she escape my father's radar?"

Sharon wondered for a moment how she was supposed to answer Quinn's question without mentioning Rachel and her involvement with the CPS. Thankfully, she was saved, just in time, by a most welcome visitor.

"There's Shelby. Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Moments later, a lady appeared at her doorway, knocking at her door.

"Hi, Sharon, hi, Quinn. I'm Shelby Corcoran. I believe Sharon is probably talking to you about me?"

Quinn nodded. "Yes."

"So what has she said so far?"

"Nothing much. My friend Santana overheard you last night, with the nurse."

"Is Santana the girl who stayed over with you last night?"

Quinn nodded.

"So she overheard me introduce myself as your foster mother?"

"Yes."

"I see. I didn't notice she was awake. Well, I'm sorry you had to find out that way, that wasn't exactly the way I wanted to introduce myself. But you were asleep, and I didn't want to wake you up."

Quinn shrugged, and Shelby didn't miss the wary look Quinn shot her.

"So, what did Santana tell you about me, or about last night?"

"She said you knew a lot. About me."

"Yes, I suppose I know quite a few facts about you, mainly about your medical care, seeing as Child Protective Services has asked me to be your temporary guardian for awhile."

_Well, that's not very fair, is it, seeing as I know nothing about you?_

"Is there anything about me that you would like to know?" Shelby enquired, when Quinn did not appear to want to respond.

"Are you from New York?"

Shelby raised her eyes. That was definitely not the question she had been expecting, and unlike Rachel, Quinn definitely could not possibly have any idea about her Broadway dreams or her off-Broadway performances in New York.

"Your clothes," Quinn explained. "You're not local. And I thought that could be the reason why my father doesn't know you... Or know about you."

Shelby turned a questioning look at Sharon, who clarified, "Yes, Quinn does know about Russell and how he's been trying to obstruct her other placements."

Shelby shook her head, hating this man more and more with every new revelation about him. He sounded like one crazy bastard.

"Yes, I'm from New York, I recently moved back here for my daughter who lives here. I am a self-employed music teacher, I mainly give vocal lessons, and I work from home. I doubt your uh, Russell knows I exist, so you don't have to worry about him threatening me. I grew up in Ohio, and my family still lives here, but in Akron, not Lima."

She had a daughter whom she came here for? Which meant her daughter had already been here all along... That made more sense than her bringing her family over, she supposed.

"How old is your daughter?"

"14."

Quinn nodded as Shelby continued on, explaining how she had just moved here and the house she had just bought was still under renovation, so she would have to share her daughter's room for a few days. She knew she ought to hate the idea, but she honestly didn't care much at this point in time. Beggars can't be choosers, right? What concerned her more was this girl's age, where she studied, and whether there was any chance that the girl knew her, or even knew about her and her past.

She supposed there was a lesson to be learnt here. Back when she had been HBIC, which now seemed like an eternity ago, even if it had just been a few days, she had never thought in all her bullying and slushying of other schoolmates that she was burning bridges that she might need to cross later on in life. Like now, when she needed a home, needed to give her baby a home, and thus needed Shelby's daughter to accept her, and allow her to stay in their home. It sucked to need the help of others, to be so dependent on others.

14 years old, huh? Not a McKinley high student, then. Unless she was a freshman... However, it was already so late in the year, it was unlikely their birthday hadn't passed yet. That was good. Even if she knew from Santino that many junior high students had already heard of her infamous name, at least she most likely hadn't slushied this daughter of Shelby's yet. Surely that would be one almost guaranteed way of getting her kicked out of Shelby's home immediately.


	39. The girl she had never slushied

NZgleek91 – Santana just doesn't understand what's going on, and quoting her from canon, "I always go to that yelling place. I have rage." She'll come around eventually, for Quinn's sake. Thanks, and you have a happy holidays season too (:

Rini – She isn't, but I think when she was angry at the nurse, she was mixing Quinn and Rachel up a little, and anyone threatening her daughter like that was bound to get her really angry. But she does know the difference, and while she is a little impatient and easily angered, she also understands Quinn's anger and will excuse some of it.

CarmellaD'Winter – Haha, Dr Lopez makes me think of Rick Grimes from 'The Walking Dead' – level-headed, far-sighted, listens to others' opinion but also willing to step up and make the difficult (and often unpopular) decisions. And yes, still a father (:

Guest – Quinn has friends like Santana and knows what good parents are, especially from her interactions with Anthony and Maribel Lopez, so she definitely knows what her parents did was wrong. The way in which she was brainwashed was more that her parents brought her up to believe that appearances were all that mattered, that no matter what happened at home, dirty laundry was not to be aired outside, and that they were a good, respectable, Christian family as long as others believed that.

Renata – I'm sorry you missed Rachel. She comes back in this chapter! A little bit, and more in the subsequent chapters. As for Dr Lopez, he said that Quinn's situation was worse "in a way", from _his_ point of view – medically, her high-risk pregnancy, her Chlamydia infection, etc, and also socially, because she has no loving parent to take her in. He had just met Rachel yesterday, and she seemed so happy with Shelby, and is recovering well physically too, that _to him_, _right now_, Quinn's situation appears to be so much worse. And of course, he knows Quinn personally, but not Rachel. However, no one is going to be ignoring Rachel's situation, especially not Shelby, and they will both get the help and attention that they need.

Lynn – Refer to previous comment to 'Renata', heh. Dr Lopez was saying that Quinn was worse off than Rachel "in a way", from his own point of view, in this current circumstance, where Rachel is safe with her mom and Quinn is in limbo. _I_ know that there is no comparing who had it worse between the two girls, but as with many of my readers, it's only human nature for my characters to be comparing between their two situations as well. I'm not sure what 'Lifetime Movie' is, but the drama in the story is fully intentional XP

lemon-rind – Besides Rachel's singing ability and propensity to make long speeches, she hasn't been very diva-ish in this story. As for your "PS", I've edited it a little and added that Shelby came back for her daughter "who lives here". Hope that works out for you. Honestly, I know little about the reasons why people in American move would between towns/cities/states. However, based on the canon characters, every one of those kids seemed really eager to get out of Lima, so I assumed Lima is somewhere no one would live in if they could help it.

sunfire1134 – Your enthusiasm spurs me on to keep writing (: Hope this chapter was worth the wait!

Shana – Haha, yup I love it, especially when it's so easy, lol. To add to the teasing, let me point out from Quinn's thoughts that Russell has been hitting "us" but only "I" moved to Lima. :P Okay, I shall stop here. Her story will be told eventually. I have more details about Quinn's childhood, but most of it involves her sister, since I don't have much else to say about Russell and Judy. I still haven't decided when I will reveal more about Frannie yet, so I'm not sure when these snippets will come out but I will say that Quinn will start thinking about Frannie more when she goes to live with Shelby, since Rachel will be kind of like her (foster) sister too. That's pretty "near future", and I hope that's enough of a "pay off" for you (: Quinn/Shelby was the one that was hard to write (hence it's short length) and I hope to get more ideas for their future interactions, since everyone seems to like their meeting so far.

Alese222 – Haha, I figured Quinn thinking that she hadn't slushied Shelby's daughter before was cliffhanger-ish enough, but no one seems to have caught that, or at least, haven't mentioned it yet. Because of the anticipated longer inter-chapter intervals, I didn't want to end with anything too much like a cliffhanger, for fear of digital projectiles being thrown at me, haha.

You-Know-Who-I-Is – Haha, I hope this chapter was worth your wait, then (:

shiniso – It's always like this, isn't it? When you make one big mistake, everyone in the world wants to talk to you about it. Even though I agree that he's probably learnt his lesson, he's just going to have to suck it up, and listen to everyone's two cent's worth, since he's the one who screwed up in the first place. As for Quinn and Rachel, there's bound to be drama when the two are put in the same house, same room, but yes, eventually (i.e. not in this chapter or the next) there'll be more sisterly/friendly bonding. Probably after Rachel realises that Quinn isn't her replacement, heh.

Anon – Yes, we are! That particular plan is actually in my plan for a few chapters later, so that's something you can look forward to (:

ricetxpeaches – Thanks! I'm glad you liked it (:

Comegetit – If I'm dragging my feet, I apologise, and assure you I'm not doing it on purpose. I wish you all the best for your second story!

GreenLemons – Haha, you clearly love the whole drama of it. Rachel won't really be going "back" to school, since she's been going to school every day last week and has no reason not to return. Quinn, however, will be taking two days' off, because she's right, returning to school without her Cheerios uniform and with cuts on her wrists wouldn't be very wise.

olacindy – I hadn't actually planned for Russell and Shelby to meet, but I'll keep that in mind. However, I do like to keep Shelby's demeanour calm no matter how angry she actually feels, but I'm not sure how to expect her to behave calmly if she should come face to face with Russell.

JWilson18 – Yes. Thanks, I hope to live up to your eager anticipation, haha (:

Emy – Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. I'll try my best but I'm also beginning to realise that having a beta can be such a great help :D

BellaDora Soulmates – Heh, yup, the grade thing was done on purpose. Quinn does meet Rachel in this chapter, and you're very warm about Rachel's response :P Although if you think San is accepting about Shelby, you might be a little disappointed with her in this chapter, heh. I don't think Santana is someone who is very trusting or receptive towards strangers, especially when it comes to the people she's protective about.

CaitlinSeu – Haha, yes, that's the point. Quinn's thought statement hoping she hadn't slushied Shelby's daughter was meant to be ironic, glad you spotted that (: As for your other question, they do meet but they… don't quite make it _into_ the house?

SA03 – Haha, "uncomfortable" feels like such an understatement XP

monprincess – Thanks (:

Chapter 37. The girl she had never slushied

Jonathan lingered outside room 44. He had intended to come in early and avoid an audience but the damn ward rounds had taken longer than usual, and now that scary 'Miss Corcoran' was in there with Quinn, along with a little Latino kid.

God, you're such a coward, Jonathan mocked himself. You're in the wrong here, you frightened an abused child, now is not the time to be a pansy ass. It's time to man up and apologise, dude.

He took a deep breath, gathered up all his courage, and appeared at the door, feeling guilty almost immediately when he saw the fear that flashed across Quinn's face. She seemed to know she had little to fear now, however, and she quickly schooled her face back into a mask of indifference.

"Good morning, ma'am, and uh... Good morning, Quinn."

Not unexpectedly, his greeting wasn't returned by either of the two females, and he looked between them, unsure of what to do next.

Shelby raised an eyebrow, contrasting the nurse's current nervous demeanour with his cocky attitude from last night. No more "hey lady"?

He stared nervously at Shelby, wondering if he was going to get another stern lecture from the woman, and Shelby laughed inside. 'Coach Corcoran' has still got it, even towards idiot nurses whose brain size and muscle bulk were inversely proportionate to each other. She jerked her head in Quinn's direction and took a step back.

He nodded, understanding that he was supposed to apologise to Quinn now.

He walked up to Quinn's bed. "I'm sorry," he began. "For getting angry with you and threatening you with restraints that night. I read your case file about what happened to you, and I understand now, why you were frightened of me when you woke up, and why you hit me. I didn't know that night, because I hadn't read your case file then, although now I realize that I should have."

Quinn stared at the nurse. He sounded genuinely sorry and that surprised her, especially given that she could still see the purple bruise that she had left on his cheek. Although Shelby's presence probably had much to do with his nervous politeness, she thought wryly, as he glanced back to Shelby and flinched slightly before adding,

"Even if I hadn't known at first, I should have checked, and I shouldn't have threatened you with restraints or left them in your room afterwards, and I'm sorry."

It seemed Santana was not the only one in awe of the lady, which was funny, because so far, she had seemed quite... nice. Although she supposed she knew better than most that appearances meant little about what that person was actually like. How long would it take for her to get this woman angry and earn herself that "icy stare" Santana had been raving about?

...

Santana scowled when she saw that Shelby was in the room with Quinn. Shelby was still standing beside Quinn's bed, so she walked right into the room and sat down in the chair beside Shelby, putting herself right in the middle of Shelby and Quinn. Shelby raised an eyebrow at her and Santana glared right back up her in response, folding her arms and leaning back against the chair, as though daring her to speak out against her behaviour.

"Santana!" Quinn hissed angrily.

"What?" Santana retorted. "I've been standing all morning and I want to sit down. Besides, she's the one who hasn't introduced herself yet. I'm the one who slept here last night, I believe I have every right to sit in this chair and wait for her to introduce herself to me."

_Oh, seriously? _Quinn rolled her eyes. "You've got to be kidding me! Grow up, S! Not everything is about you, damn it. You've got a fantastic family, good for you, I'm really happy for you and you know I love your Mami too. But my foster placement is about _me_, not you, and will you stop making things difficult for me? God, you can be so childish sometimes!"

"What, 5 minutes with this woman and you're smitten by her already?"

"Do you think I'm some naive broken puppy or helpless toddler ready to latch myself onto the first foster parent that comes along? I am _so_ not smitten by her. I just need a home and she's willing to provide one, so this arrangement seems to be agreeable to all parties involved. Which does not include you, so will you please stop getting in the way of that?"

"I can't believe you said that! I'm not _doing_ anything, just sitting here, _watching_."

"No, you're picking a fight. You finished yelling at your parents – who are, by the way, the best parents in the world and did _not_ deserve to be yelled at by you – and since they didn't give in to you, you're now picking a fight with me and I'm stupid enough to actually engage you, to try and change your mind. Well, I'm not going to do that anymore, you can sit there all you want and be pissed off on your own."

"I just don't get it. Why wouldn't you ask Mami yourself? You already call her 'Aunt Maribel', she trusts you to look after Santino, you're practically a part of our family. You _know_ she'll say yes if it's you doing the asking. She loves you like a second daughter, and you obviously adore her too, so just get over your damn pride and go ask her!"

Quinn pursed her lips and turned away, ignoring her as she had said she would, although truth be told, she didn't really have an answer for that.

Shelby watched the interaction between the girls with great interest. Santana's dramatic entrance had actually saved her from a rather awkward few minutes of "let's get to know each other" time suggested by Sharon, who had abandoned them for paperwork shortly after.

From her observations, it seemed her earlier assessment that the two girls were good friends had been right - only good friends fought this much. It seemed that this girl, Santana, was right too, Quinn seemed to be really close to the Lopezes. Dr Lopez might not be able to take her in for professional reasons but Shelby hoped that they would continue to be a big part of Quinn's life. She hadn't met Dr Lopez's wife yet, but if Quinn "adored" her enough to call her 'Aunt Maribel', then she was definitely someone she needed to speak to later.

When Quinn refused to respond to Santana, Shelby decided that it was perhaps time to step in.

"Hi, I'm Shelby Corcoran, Quinn's foster mother, although Quinn here tells me you know that already. You must be Santana." She stretched out her hand to shake Santana's, but was met with silence.

Santana glared at her and her outstretched arm and refused to reply or even move her own arm.

_Oh, seriously?_ Shelby was never more glad that Rachel was so obedient and agreeable. Teenagers could be such a pain in the ass, and if this Santana was her student, she would no doubt be giving her a good dressing down by now. However, this was not her student, but the good friend of her new foster daughter. And the daughter of her daughter's doctor. What a huge mess. The point was, she wasn't quite sure how she was supposed to act around here.

Fortunately, she didn't have to remain clueless for too long.

"Santana Alma Lopez!" a voice rang out, presumably Maribel Lopez, Shelby thought. The Latina woman who walked in did bear some resemblance to Santana and more importantly, that tone of voice saying out one's full name was one reserved for only mothers to use. A voice that mean that said that you were in big trouble.

_Oh shit!_

Santana hurriedly grasped Shelby's hand and let go of it. "Yes, I'm Santana."

Maribel walked over and pulled Santana away by her ear.

"Ow! Mami!"

"I thought we settled this outside the room just now, and you understood that this is Quinn and Shelby's decision and your only job here is to be supportive of your friend, but clearly you weren't listening at all. And instead of talking to us, you walk in here with your pissy attitude and create trouble for the two of them? And what's this I saw about the lady introducing herself and wanting to shake your hand and you just ignoring her? Did I raise you up to have absolutely no manners?"

"Yes, I mean, no, Mami, I'm sorry! Ow, my ear, please Mami…"

Maribel let go of Santana's ear.

"What is up with you?"

Santana sighed and shrugged, rubbing at her ear. She really didn't know. She was just so angry, and Shelby was a convenient target to take her anger out on. She had been hoping for a fight too, she knew that, but she didn't know what would possess her to want to pick a fight with the scariest woman alive in the damned hospital. She just hated this whole thing so much, everything was so messy and screwed up and it felt like she was going to explode any moment.

Thankfully, her mother somehow seemed to be able to read her mind.

"Your behaviour was _not_ acceptable but we'll talk more about this later, okay? Outside."

"Okay."

Maribel turned to Shelby. "I'm sorry for my daughter's rudeness," she apologized, and nudged Santana meaningfully.

"I'm sorry too," Santana mumbled to both Shelby and Quinn.

Maribel nodded approvingly, knowing that was the best her daughter would come up with until she had talked to her and found out what was really wrong with her.

…

Maribel sat down opposite Shelby in the visitors' lounge, and reached out to shake Shelby's hand. "I haven't even introduced myself, have I? I'm Maribel Lopez, Santana's mother."

Shelby nodded with a smile. "I guessed you were. I'm Shelby, Quinn's foster mother. Your husband Dr Lopez might have told you about me?"

"Not much, actually. He was rather cryptic about he got to know you, except to say that it was also through the system, through CPS."

Shelby nodded, grateful that Dr Lopez had kept hers and Rachel's secret, as she had hoped he would. He had explained about patient confidentiality protecting them, but she knew how easily things could slip out sometimes.

"Yes, your husband is a good man, a great doctor too."

"Thank you. Quinn here is Santana's good friend and we frequently have her over at our house for sleepovers, that's how I know Quinn so well. We all care very much for her, even my little boy Santino, whom I believe you've already met. She is an important part of Santana and all our lives, and when we found out about her parents… Well, let's just say what happened to her came as a great shock to us as well."

"I understand. This must have been terrible news to you," Shelby acknowledged, recalling how she had felt when CPS had first called her to inform her about Rachel. To say it was one hell of a shock would be putting it mildly. "Thank you for still being here for her."

"No, thank _you_ for taking her in. We being here is just our responsibility, we owe it to her after everything she's had to go through on her own. Actually, we would love to continue to be a part of her life, even while she is staying with you. Just to, you know, check up on her, make sure she's going okay."

Shelby smiled knowingly and nodded. "You mean make sure I don't mistreat her as well?"

Maribel smiled nervously. "I don't mean to be suspicious or mistrustful, and I do appreciate what you've done for her so far. My daughter told us about how you handled Jonathan the nurse last night, how you found out about him threatening her with restraints, and made him realize the error of his ways _and_ apologise to Quinn as well. We – my kids and I – were in the room the whole of yesterday and we didn't notice but you did… Thank you. For looking out for her and caring for her well-being even though you didn't even know her, hadn't met her yet."

"I would have done the same for anyone else, any other child. What the nurse did was out of line and inexcusable. And I completely understand you feeling protective of Quinn. In fact, I'm happy to see that she has people who care for her, who want to protect her. Even your daughter – as belligerent and rude as her actions were towards me just now, I can still see that she was that way because she cared for Quinn and wanted to protect her from me. She's been through a lot and she needs people like you looking out for her."

As does Rachel, except she has no one. Except me. Her mother. Who is in the hospital fighting off angry teenagers and picking up a new foster daughter when she has no clue what she's doing with her first and actual daughter. Rachel deserved more, deserved better too. She deserved friends, deserved mama bears like Maribel watching out for her, except she had no one, not at school and not at home. No one except for her mother who had abandoned her at birth and whom she had not met for more than 15 years. No one except for her mother who was green and new, and had no idea what she was doing.

It was like all of a sudden, everything just seemed so overwhelming – too overwhelming.

Oh God, was that a tear? Why was she tearing? She had just committed verbal diarrhoea on the social worker yesterday, and today she is about to _cry_ in front of her new foster daughter's best friend's mother, whom she knew nothing about and had just met barely ten minutes ago? What was wrong with her?

Shelby blinked back the lone tear quickly but unfortunately, not before Maribel saw it.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Shelby said quickly, a little too quickly. She wasn't going to do this, not again. Sharon was different. She was a social worker, her job was to help kids like Rachel and Quinn, _and _she had already known everything about Rachel when she had unloaded on her yesterday. This woman knew nothing, and she couldn't spill out Rachel's secrets like that. She wasn't going to do this, no way, not here, not in front of this woman.

"That didn't look like nothing," Maribel told her kindly. "I'm sorry if I came on too strongly at you, like you said, I was just looking out for her. I didn't mean to scare you, and I definitely didn't mean to make you cry." She thought back to Santana's behaviour just now and rubbed her hand at the back of her neck nervously. "Santana said that you were freakishly scary last night, a real badass…"

Shelby laughed lightly and shook her head. "Usually. I'm _usually_ a badass. I'm a teacher, a vocal teacher, and my students call me Coach Corcoran. Well, they used to call me that… Since I've moved about 500 miles from New York to Ohio, I'm going to have to get new students… But my students in New York used to call me that, Coach Corcoran."

_You're rambling, Shelbs._ But once she had started, she didn't seem quite able to stop herself.

"Well, the world of music theatre is a tough industry and many of those kids are just so full of ego, thinking they're so talented, that once they stroll into New York, a red carpet will be rolled out to welcome them and Broadway roles will just fall at their feet. Who am I kidding, I used to be one of those kids until I realized that my dreams were bigger than my talent and I was better at teaching than I would ever be at performing. Anyway, being fierce and strict and no-nonsense with my students helps me kick them off their high horse and keep them grounded so they can actually learn something from me. You know, there's no room for any of my lessons to go in if they're so full of themselves."

Maribel laughed. "Interesting imagery."

"Anyway, I guess the 'Coach Corcoran' in me came out a little too strongly last night. I've been a little on the edge recently, and just finding out about what had happened to Quinn yesterday, then discovering those wrist restraints in her room… I guess I couldn't help but unleash Coach Corcoran on him and your daughter was unfortunate enough to have had to see that."

"Oh trust me, it's not unfortunate at all. There are few people in this world that Santana seems to be scared of, and if you happen to be one of them, I would _love_ to keep you as my secret weapon. To "unleash" on her whenever she steps out of line."

Shelby laughed. "She does seem pretty headstrong. But don't worry, I'm only that fierce when the student needs it. I do realize that after all Quinn went through she would probably need a softer touch and I know how to give that too."

"That's good to know. If you don't mind me asking, though, why have you been on edge recently and why did you appear to be near tears just now? I don't mean to pry, but Quinn means a lot to me, and she needs a committed parent now. She's also an incredibly perceptive girl, so she would sense something's off in a minute. I guess what I mean to say is, if you're having any problems, I'm here for you, and if you have any difficulty, need me to take Quinn off your hands for a few days, I would be more than happy to do that for you. Quinn, Santana and another girl Brittany often have sleepovers at my house, and I really enjoy having them around."

"Thank you for that offer but probably not today. I actually have another daughter, and I should be getting home and introducing them to each other, help Quinn settle in. However, I do really appreciate your offer to help, and I can see that Quinn really does mean a lot to you."

Shelby paused. She wasn't used to accepting help from anyone, she had survived all those years in New York on her own after all, but this wasn't really about her anymore. She had two girls, who would both suffer if she failed at this parenting business, and she wasn't too pig-headed to admit that she might need some help with this. Given a choice between Maribel and her mother, her mother whom she hadn't spoken to for 15 years… It was a no-brainer of a choice, really. Besides, this woman seemed really nice and keen to help. She also had two children, and that Santana girl seemed to be quite a handful. If she could handle that teenager, it probably wouldn't hurt to get some parenting tips from her.

"I was recently re-united with my daughter, which is a long story that is not really mine to tell. What I'm trying to say is, I'm pretty new to parenting. It was only because Sharon mentioned that few foster homes were willing to take Quinn in that I agreed to. After hearing her story, I knew I couldn't just abandon her to get lost in the system. However, I am under no delusion that this will be easy, and if you're offering your help, I'd be a fool to turn it down. And in future, if you want Quinn to spend a few days over at your house and Quinn is agreeable to it, as long as there are some rules laid out and I know what she's up to, I don't see why not."

So she was _new_? Maribel thought, a little worried. At least her agreeability to help showed that there probably weren't too many skeletons in her closet and even if she was inexperienced, it was more important to her that Shelby wasn't going to mistreat Quinn. Besides, any inexperience on Shelby's part would hopefully mean that she would be more open to more involvement on Maribel's part in Quinn's care. Not to intrude or make things difficult, of course, but just to check on Quinn. She was definitely not going to make the same mistake again. Even if it meant stepping on a few toes, she would make sure that Shelby was the person that she said she was, and that Quinn was well looked after in her new foster home.

"Actually, I was thinking of having a sleepover this weekend. I guess I just want to let Quinn know that things don't have to be different and she's always welcome at my home, and also to give the girls some quality time to spend together. I know Santana stayed over last night, but the hospital isn't the best place for stress-free bonding time, you know?"

"Sure. I'll ask Quinn later and get back to you? I should probably go see the doctors – your husband – about any medical issues and appointments I need to take note of and get her discharge papers ready. My daughter may be 14, and it probably sounds irrational to you but I don't want to leave her alone at home for too long."

Having Quinn stay with them this weekend actually did sound like a good idea. Not only would Quinn get to return to spending time with people she was obviously more comfortable with, Shelby thought Friday would also be a good day to spend some one-on-one time with Rachel and find out how she was coping with living with Shelby, as well as Quinn's presence. It being a routine activity for Quinn would also mean she hopefully wouldn't see it as Shelby pushing her out of the house so she could spend some alone time with her real daughter.

"Oh, I know what you mean. _Especially_ at 14, that's the age when they're starting to test your boundaries, trying out some alcohol from your liquor cabinet, sneaking boys into the house, getting into who knows what kind of trouble."

"Rachel isn't quite like that, but yes."

They exchanged numbers and Shelby headed back to the nurses' station. More paperwork to look forward to, she thought with another sigh. This was turning out to be more tiring than she had expected it to be, and she couldn't wait to get home to Rachel.

…

"She has to take this antibiotic for her Chlamydia infection. 1 tablet, 3 times a day, for 1 week. It is very important for her to finish the entire one-week course of antibiotics, so I would appreciate it if you can help me remind her and makes sure she takes them. She is understandably reluctant to even think about them, probably because it reminds her of why she has to take them in the first place… not an easy thing for her to think about. But she _is_ pregnant and it's imperative that the infection clears before her delivery, so it doesn't affect the baby."

"With regards to the pregnancy, things have been fine so far. She needs to take these prenatal vitamins – I'm sure you're familiar with them. There are certain risks involved in her pregnancy and we will need to run some tests on her in the following weeks, the appointments with her gynecologists have all been given to you. My intern has also informed me that she seems to be having all-day sickness instead of just morning sickness. Her appetite hasn't been too good and she constantly feels like vomiting but the vomiting can be kept to a minimum if she eats small, frequent meals, so you could try that. I've also included some anti-nausea medicines that are safe for her to take during pregnancy, so she can take those if the vomiting gets too bad. If that doesn't help, bring her right back."

"Quinn's injuries are improving. There are no signs of infection as of now, and all she really needs is pain relief and anti-inflammatory medication to keep the swelling down. She is understandably reluctant to allow me to apply the ointment on her, so I'm not sure if she would be willing to allow you to help her but she's demonstrated to me that she is able to apply it on her own satisfactorily, so that's fine. There are a few scratches on her hips that requires plasters, and she doesn't need to change those, just replace them if they fall off. The bandages on her wrists should be able to come off on Tuesday, although it might take another day or two for the marks to completely disappear."

…

"Okay, all done, we can go home now," Shelby told Quinn.

Home? Quinn tried to hide her sneer. Shelby and her daughter's home, maybe but not hers. She had no home now, and she wondered if she ever really had a home in the first place.

_Oh, stop it with that self-pitying! It doesn't become you. _

Sharon handed her a familiar powder blue duffle bag.

"The police have finished collecting evidence from your house, and taking their photographs, so I went over this morning and collected some clothes and things for you. I thought you might not want to go back there, because of… well, yeah. If you need anything else, I can get it for you. Or if you prefer, you can get them on your own, just let me know."

Quinn nodded. "Thank you."

"I'm going with Quinn to Shelby's house," Santana announced from beside her.

"No you're not," Shelby told her firmly. Introducing Quinn to Rachel was enough for her daughter, and while Quinn seemed quite calm about this, Santana was way too agitated and angry. Even after Maribel had scolded her and she had apologised, she was still sullen and obviously angry, and there was no way she was allowing her into her house until she had straightened out her attitude.

Santana glared back at Shelby and Quinn physically pulled her away.

"Stop it, S, or I'm calling your Mami on you."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"Whatever, like I give a crap what happens to you at her house anyway."

Quinn rolled her eyes. Santana did a pretty poor job of trying not to care, especially when she usually only got so angry when she was defending someone or something she cared about.

…

"Santana, what's wrong?"

"Everything. Everything's wrong, Mami."

"Is this about Quinn?"

Santana nodded. "Everything's wrong and I don't know how to fix it."

"Santana," Maribel reached over to hold her daughter's hand. "I know everything that has happened to Quinn so far is so wrong and so scary but it is not your responsibility to "fix" any of it. CPS, your father and I, Shelby… we're the adults here, and it is our responsibility to look after her and make things right again for her."

"It is, Mami. It's my responsibility because it's my fault."

"How could any of that be your fault?"

"I should have known sooner. I'm her friend and I should have figured it out earlier. Britt and I, we're the only friends she really has at school. Do you know that this has been going on for _years_? She told me "it's just what happens" like it doesn't mean anything, like it's as normal as the sun rising from the East, but it's _not_. She told Papi that the beatings have been going on since she was a child, and that the…" Santana paused and took a deep breath. "…the rape has been going on since she was 15. That's more than a year, and I just… I should have known sooner, should have reported her parents sooner. She always just said her parents were busy people, and gave bullshit excuses about how they were strict and didn't want her to invite friends over when she was alone at home and we just always believed it… _I_ always believed it…"

Maribel gripped her daughter's hand tightly. "It's _not_ your responsibility, Santana. She never said anything about her parents, you couldn't possibly have known. Even your father, who is medically trained and is the sharpest, most observant man I know, didn't know anything. She hid it too well, possibly because as you say, she's had to hide it all her life. You couldn't possibly have known all these was going on, she gave you no reason to doubt her excuses."

"I knew, Mami. Not… not about Russell. I knew she could be pregnant. She told me about the possibility last week but later she said she wasn't, and I believed her."

"She lied to you. I'm not saying this was her fault, she probably had her reasons for not sharing this with you. Maybe she was too ashamed to tell you, maybe she was in denial about it herself. What I'm saying is, it's not your fault either. This is Russell's fault. And Judy's. Not yours, not Quinn's."

Santana shook her head.

Maribel sighed.

"I felt guilty too, when I found out. That night, while you and your Papi were at the hospital for all those hours, I stayed up all night, thinking back to every sleepover you girls have had, going through everything she ever did or said. I remembered the time you girls broke the television and I recalled that smallest flash of fear that crossed her face when I walked into the living room to find the television smashed to pieces on the floor. Back then, I dismissed it, thinking it was nothing but that night, I turned that memory over and over in my head, wondering if I should have enquired further, if I could possibly have found out about their abusive behaviour earlier, before this had happened to her… I blamed myself. This incident happened more than two years ago, 'Tana. Before Russell started… If I had managed to report him then, maybe Quinn would have spared the nightmare of being raped by him…"

"But it was not your fault," Santana protested. "We broke a really expensive television, she had every right to be scared, and it wasn't like she was excessively frightened. And for all the time that she spent at our house, she never ever gave us any other clue either, about what went on in her own home, or that her parents were different from you and Papi. She came to our house maybe one or two weekends a month. Compared to me, you barely knew her. You couldn't have known."

"And the same goes to you, Santana. You couldn't have known either, and letting guilt eat you up inside, being so angry all the time, isn't good for you or for Quinn. You need to be her friend, to be there for her and support her during this difficult time, not make things harder for her."

"But I'm so scared, Mami. What if Shelby hurts Quinn too? What if Quinn doesn't tell us again? This can't happen to her again, and she's pregnant now too…"

"We won't let it happen, okay? I told you, the hospital staff, the social workers, your Papi and I… we won't let that happen to her. She's getting counseling now too, her social worker will look in on her, and she will have regular checkups with the hospital as well, and you know your Papi will be on the lookout for anything even vaguely suspicious. Everyone is trying their best to help her. I'm not saying that everything will be smooth sailing for her from now on, because she's still going through so much, more than any 16-year-old should have to go through. I'm saying that we're trying our best, and things will go a lot easier for her if she has her best friend on her side instead of fighting with her all the time."

"I don't know what else to do. Do you know what I was talking to her about at the hospital the whole of yesterday? I was talking about the Cheerios, about Coach Sylvester and our newest routine. I couldn't bear to talk about any of that… of what Russell and Judy did to her. Every time I even mention it, the swear words fly out and I just get so mad, so blind with rage. I don't know how to be supportive about this. I don't know how to talk about it at all. I just want to kill them, to kill them both, I get so angry…"

Maribel pulled Santana towards her and held her close.

"Shh… It's okay," she murmured as her daughter cried into her shoulder.

A few minutes later, Santana wiped her tears away sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, pointing to her mother's now wet shirt sleeve. "This is stupid… it's been so long since I've cried on you."

"It's okay," Maribel replied. "I'm your Mami, remember? I've seen you cry too many times to count, like when 'The Little Mermaid' died, when…"

Santana groaned. "Stop it, Mami."

Maribel smiled. "Feeling better?"

"I guess… I still don't know what I'm going to do about Quinn, though. I want to be her friend, to help her through this. I just don't know how. I'm not good with talking about feelings and shi- I mean, crap like that."

Maribel nodded. "I know. And I think Quinn knows that too."

"Then how am I supposed to be supportive like you want me to?"

"Sometimes, Santana, you don't have to say anything if you don't know what to say. Sometimes, just being there for her and acting normal around her can be what she needs from you."

"How can I be normal after everything that has happened to her?"

"Talking about Cheerios, about Coach… that sounds pretty normal to me."

"That was me being a coward, avoiding the hard topics."

"Maybe that's what she wants from you, what she needs from you too. Don't get me wrong, she's going to need counseling, therapy, she's going to need people to talk to about this. Maybe what she needs from you is someone to avoid the hard stuff with, someone with whom she can just be a normal teenager."

"You think so?"

Maribel nodded.

"And if she wants to talk about these things, then all you have to do is listen, you don't even have to say much if you don't know what to say. But if she doesn't want to talk, then there's no need to bring it up. From what I saw yesterday, talking to you about all normal, mundane things seemed to help her be more relaxed too. She certainly wasn't protesting that."

Santana nodded. "Just the part when I was rude to her new foster mother."

"She was right too, you know, you've got to try and be nicer to her. She's going to be looking after Quinn, and you'll be making things difficult for Quinn, putting her on the spot, if you keep being so rude to her."

"I don't trust her, Mami. Do you?"

"I trust your father. I don't quite trust the system but I trust it enough to give it a shot. I actually spoke to her just now. She actually seemed quite sincere about wanting to look after Quinn, and you said it yourself, she stood up for Quinn against the male nurse who threatened her. I'm not asking you to trust her completely immediately, but I think you should give her a chance."

"What did you talk about? Did you tell her that if she dares to hurt Quinn, she'll have me to answer to?"

"Santana! I know where you're coming from, but when will you get that not everything can be settled with yelling and fists? I didn't talk to her to threaten her but to introduce myself, introduce our family, and offer my _help_. To let her know that we, as a family, still want to remain a big part of Quinn's life."

"To check and make sure Shelby doesn't mistreat Quinn?"

"I didn't quite put it that way, but essentially, yes. Definitely more politely than you did, though."

"I hate having to be polite to people I don't like."

"I know. And you'll certainly not be running for presidency anytime soon but you've got to try with Shelby, okay?"

"Okay. I'll _try_."

Maribel laughed. "That's all I'm asking."

"Mami?"

"Yes, 'Tana?"

"Could we invite Quinn over to our house for another sleepover on Friday? To give her some of that normalcy back. Especially if _Shelby_ doesn't want us over at her house yet."

"I've actually already asked, and she said yes, if Quinn wants to."

Santana nodded. "Quinn always wants to come." She paused, thinking about what that had meant for Quinn, the sanctuary her house had probably seemed like to Quinn, now that she knew what she knew about Quinn's own home. "That's good, I guess."

"Don't worry so much, okay? Quinn will be fine, I promise."

…

Mom was home! Rachel jumped off the chair and moved to open the door.

"Mom," she greeted as she swung the door open and was met with hazel-green eyes and blond hair.

No, no it couldn't be. If this was her competition, she might as well throw in the towel right now, because there was no way she was going to win this, not against this girl.

_Fuck._

Quinn was not one to swear – that was usually Santana – but that was the only word that even came close to reflect what she felt when the door opened to reveal who Shelby's 14-year-old daughter was.

So much for her thankfulness that Shelby's daughter was 14, not 16.

Forget junior high, forget someone who had never heard of HBIC Fabray and her infamous slushies. This was the one girl she had slushied more times than any ten other people combined. If there was a league table for slushies, 'Fabray vs Berry' would have set an unbreakable world record for it, especially on account of the one text that had launched a hundred slushies last Thursday. The day which, she recalled, was the same day Shelby had picked Rachel up.

_Fuck._ She was so screwed.

**A/N. Okay, this **_**is**_** a cliffhanger but I wanted to end here to contrast with last chapter's ending, when Quinn thought that she hadn't slushied Shelby's daughter yet and felt relieved. The irony appeals to me. **

**Once again, thanks to my lovely beta MTLover for helping me get this chapter out (:**

**Last but not least, whether it's Boxing Day now or still Christmas Day where you are, I hope everyone had a blessed Christmas and enjoyed this holiday season! :D And enjoyed this chapter, my Christmas present to all of you, my loyal readers (:  
**


	40. Braced myself for the goodbye, Part 1

JWilson18 – Haha, Shelby _is_ scarier in canon, and I wanted to keep that. It was fun writing Santana being bitchy but a little scared of Shelby and explaining why later with her conversation with her mom (:

You-Know-Who-I-Is – Haha, like Quinn, that is not a word I use often either, but it seemed appropriate for the situation XD

NZgleek91 – Yay! I think you can tell that I don't like making my characters entirely likeable because that's just too unrealistic but besides the Four Evil Parents, I will always try my best to explain their unlikeable actions. I'm glad you understand where Santana's bitchiness and anger was coming from (:

ajunebuga – Yay, I also loved writing the 2 chapter ends (: Merry Christmas to you too!

lemon-rind – Thanks! And you're welcome (:

Shana – You're welcome (: Yup, no one seems to have any complaints about this particular cliffhanger, which makes me very happy, haha. Merry Christmas to you too!

shiniso – Thanks. Enjoy your vacation time! (wow, your vacation lasts for _months_? Awesome!) Maybe you could start writing your own fanfiction story? :P

Comegetit – I'm not sure if this is the fireworks you were hoping for, but I wrote it the way I think the Rachel and Quinn in my story (not in canon) would have reacted to this situation. Hope you do like it (:

Alese222 – Haha, awkward was what I was going for :D Shelby is not going to allow Santana to visit the house anytime soon after her behaviour at the hospital but Santana will eventually find out, one way or another (:

Guest – Heh, yup, my writing is terribly horribly slow, I know. I'm glad you understand why Rachel's thinking hasn't changed yet in the short time that has elapsed since her "rescue".

Rini – You too, and you're welcome. Haha, your excitement is completely understandable and probably shared by many readers, and thus, guilt is quite unnecessary :D

Happy belated Christmas! And thank you for your present! It was perfect. Can't wait till next update is up. So many things can happen now. I don't think Rachel will tell Shelby about the slushies but I wonder if maybe Quinn will come clean about it. The whole situation is going to be so awkward for all three of them. I feel slightly guilty for feeling so exited about it.

Anon – You're welcome. That particular flashback is coming soon but not in this chapter, sorry!

KC1991 – Thanks! Here's my update (: To reply your second review, Quinn said "fuck" (Why would she say "think it?"). Shelby will eventually find out about that, but not tonight.

renata – Shelby's a mom, so she's always going to be thinking about Rachel. As for Maribel, I intend for her to be a rock for all of them. She's awesome (:

Guest – You're excused, haha, since I was the one who started using that word XD

Excuse my language, but "Fuck" indeed! I should hate you for leaving it there but it just cracked me up. Rachel, don't sweat it, you're safe, you're not going anywhere. Quinn, you better behave now though, or it could mean a group home for you. Awesome update. Keep it up!

sdmwd1115 – Shelby will, but it will take some time, too long for me to squeeze into a single chapter, so have fun with the drama :D And the girls will be sharing a room, remember? I'm having awesome fun with that fact. As for the rest of your predictions, I'm sorry, Quinn is not going to run off, but I do know there are quite a few such stories out there, and maybe you should write your own alternate ending to this story (:

monprincess – Thank you, I'm honoured you think so.

demisparks – I've got to say wow back too! The longer this story gets, the more amazed I am when someone tells me they finish the story in a day. It goes without saying that I can't imagine someone rereading it the next day, lol. You're right that Shelby will find out the truth "eventually, but not yet" which translates to "in a few chapters". Meanwhile, I'll have my fun writing more drama into the lives of my two favourite girls, heh.

ekcandyapple – Haha, I can imagine. I totally laughed at your emphasis of the word "long". And to answer your question, Finn didn't visit Quinn in the hospital, because Quinn didn't tell him. She didn't tell anyone, only Santana knew for obvious reasons. Otherwise, at the very least, Brittany would have come to visit her. Quinn is with Finn more for social hierarchy reasons and to gain Russell's approval, and not because she really likes him.

CarmellaD'Winter – Glad you liked the cliffhanger, hope you enjoy the continued awkwardness, drama and them living together (:

GreenLemons – Thanks, and I sincerely apologise for my cliffhanger, heh. Good job realising that Rachel will be getting jealous that Quinn will be spending alone time with Shelby :P Happy holidays to you too!

CaitlinSeu – Haha! You're really eager for more (:

SA03 – Haha, poor Shelby indeed. She may be tough, but she's got a heck of a job with these two girls. As for the door, she's got to hustle Quinn into the house first before she can shut it XD Happy new year to you too!

Chapter 38. Braced myself for the goodbye, Part 1

"No fucking way. I'm not staying with Rachel freaking Berry!" Quinn yelled, all previous promises to play nice forgotten.

And clearly, also having forgotten that they weren't in school anymore, she reminded herself, wanting to smack herself in the forehead. "Rachel freaking Berry" was no longer the joke of the school but _Shelby's daughter_, Q! Way to make a bad impression from the start.

Damn this whole crappy situation.

She glared at the midget in the doorway again. She could scarcely believe that Shelby's daughter was seriously _her_. Quinn scowled in annoyance. Even if her reaction was a little over the top, it wasn't entirely unjustified. Anyone but her... Why did it have to be _her_?

She turned to glare at Shelby. "You didn't tell me your _"14-year-old daughter"_ skipped a grade, hasn't had her birthday yet and has two gay dads. Also, you must have only met her like, ten days ago?"

How did Quinn-? Shelby wondered and quickly shook herself out of her stunned state, before things started getting out of hand. It seemed to her like the two of them were familiar with each other, or at least, that Quinn knew Rachel, which appeared to be an overly mild statement considering how much Quinn appeared to hate Rachel. Now would be a good time for her to also get herself updated on what the two of them knew about each other, Shelby decided, before Quinn crossed into the threshold of her house and the two of them went for each others' throats.

"Are the two of you friends?"

"No!" Quinn shouted, at the same time as Rachel answered, "Yes."

"We know each other," Rachel quickly explained. "We're schoolmates, we share some classes, and we're in the Glee club together. But we have uh, different circles of friends."

Quinn rolled her eyes. That was one way to put it. Another might be "Quinn has slushied me every day of my high school career, made sure no one would dare to be my friend, and I hate her to the core."

"Okay," Shelby replied. There was clearly more going on between the two girls that they weren't sharing yet but the driveway wasn't the right setting to have this conversation. She gathered up Quinn's bag and medications from the car. "Let's take this inside, alright?"

"N-," Quinn started to protest and thought better of it. Her baby needed a home, she reminded herself, and even if this was obviously the wrong "placement" for her, lasting all of 5 minutes in her first foster home would not bode well with Sharon, especially after all the trouble she had gone through to find her this one. She had no doubt Rachel would soon be demanding that Shelby not take her in, but at least Sharon would maybe see that she had tried to be civil.

"Fine," she muttered, stalking into the house without looking at Rachel. She didn't want to think about how humiliating it would be to get kicked out by the girl she had once slushied daily and bullied mercilessly. Oh how the mighty have fallen indeed. Damn it.

Rachel stood behind the door, holding it open for her mother to come in as well. Quinn hadn't looked at her since their eyes had met the first moment when she had opened the door, and she couldn't really blame her. She still couldn't believe that the girl her mother and Sharon had been talking about was Quinn. That the girl to whom all those horrible things had happened to was Quinn. That the girl she was going to get replaced was none other than Quinn Fabray, the prettiest, most popular girl in the school, who seemed to hate her beyond reason. At this rate, she wasn't going to last "a few days", the most she could probably hope for was a few hours to pack her things, she thought as her heart fell.

Shelby closed the door behind her and dropped the things on the dining table, all the while wondering what the best way to go about doing things was. She knew things in real life didn't happen like they did in Broadway musicals, and she hadn't been hoping for the two girls to hug each other and become best buddies from the word go, but she hadn't expected this either. There was definitely a significant shared history of bad blood between these two girls.

"Firstly, since introductions are clearly not necessary at this point in time, we will skip that and calmly discuss what is going between the two of you. Polite language will be used, and that means no four-letter 'F' words, Quinn."

Quinn continued to glare at Rachel, refusing to even acknowledge Shelby's warning.

"I mean it. Watch your language, Quinn."

Quinn rolled her eyes at Shelby. This was stupid. She didn't want to be here. Not in RuPaul's house. She had heard enough about her wonderful, loving perfect fathers. She didn't want to get to know her probably perfect mother too. The "family" that Rachel had mentioned she was living with, except that she hadn't mentioned that this "family" had moved all the way from New York to be with her. And set up this fantastic cozy little home for her in those 10 short days she had been here as well. Of course. Nothing but the best for the perfect Rachel Barbra Berry. Quinn bet she didn't even realize how fortunate she was.

_Three perfect parents_. Damn that diva. What wouldn't she give for just one of those parents, just one person to give a crap about her?

I don't care, Quinn told herself. I don't give a crap about the freaking midget. She could keep all 3 of her wonderful parents and gloat about them for all she cared, as long as she didn't have to listen to her, as long as she didn't have to _live_ with any of them. Seriously, why did Shelby's daughter have to be her? Shelby's placement had seemed to be going well, she had thought that her life might perhaps be returning to some semblance of normalcy, so of course Rachel had to go and ruin her life again.

"Whatever. You're not the boss of me. I'm getting out of here soon enough anyway. I don't have to listen to you."

"Excuse me? I think you need to straighten up that attitude, young lady!"

So much for a "softer touch" that she had promised Maribel she possessed. _Cool your temper, Shelbs!_

"Or what? You'll kick me out? Gladly! How about right now?"

"I'm not going to do that, Quinn. Please stop this."

"The state pays you to take care of me. I get that," Quinn told her harshly. "Are you really that hard up on cash when your daughter clearly can't stand the sight of me?"

Logically, she knew she didn't have much of a choice, but seriously, could she never get rid of this midget? Her father had been obsessed enough about the dwarf, talking endlessly about the Berrys being gay and Rachel's grades being better than hers, discussing the diva way more frequently than he even mentioned Quinn. Why did she now have to _live_ with Little Miss Perfect as well? Why couldn't it be someone else, anyone else? Someone who hadn't ruined her life, someone who wasn't so damned perfect?

"Rachel, do you have any problems with Quinn being here?"

Rachel shook her head quickly. Of course she didn't. Why would she? She knew who was going to be the one leaving if her Mom was forced to choose between the two of them. Quinn was the pretty girl, the popular cheerleader, the perfect daughter. And Quin hated her, had sought to ruin her life at every opportunity in school. Even now, she hadn't even done anything but her presence itself was clearly enough to antagonize Quinn. There was no way she was going to do or say anything to provoke her previous tormentor any further.

"It seems to me that you're the only one who's upset, Quinn, who can't stand the sight of Rachel, and not the other way around, so please just calm down, have a seat, and let's talk about why."

Quinn pursed her lips and looked at Rachel, properly this time. It was true, Rachel did not look anywhere near pissed off, mean or vengeful. If anything, she looked more frightened and nervous, glancing anxiously between Quinn and Shelby.

What the hell did Little Miss Perfect have to be afraid of here in her own home? Even when Quinn had confronted her with a parade of slushies at school, Rachel hadn't been this afraid, she usually just took most things in her stride.

Rachel looked between the irate Quinn and her mother. Her mother was trying to keep calm but she was already starting to sound impatient and angry. Why was Quinn trying to rile her up? Did she hate her so much that she wanted to get her kicked out so soon? Why couldn't she just give this a chance to work out?

_Please stop protesting so much_, Rachel pleaded silently. She knew that if Quinn protested any further, she would be kicked out right this moment, because no mother in the right mind would choose her over Quinn. She needed to stay, needed a chance to talk to Quinn first, to convince her that the both of them staying in the same room, sharing the same house was not such a bad idea. It could work, she told herself, and she would convince Quinn of that as well, if she would only give her a chance. She would do anything, promise Quinn anything, to make it work.

The pounding in her head continued unceasingly. She could barely register a word that Quinn was saying. She couldn't even begin to wrap her head around the idea that the girl to whom all those horrible things had happened to was Quinn, that oh God, Quinn was _pregnant_, because the one thought that was currently occupying her mind and robbing her of all mental abilities was that no mother – no one – in her right mind would ever choose her when they could have Quinn as their daughter instead.

Silence finally resumed, and Shelby sat both girls down quickly before a quarrel could start up again.

"Do either of you want to tell me what kind of history it is that the two of you share?"

Quinn held her breath, waiting for Rachel to begin one of her infamous speeches, detailing every wrong thing that Quinn had even done to her, or incited others to do to her. To her surprise, however, Rachel's answer was short and simple.

"Nothing," Rachel answered quickly. "Nothing at all." She turned to Quinn anxiously, her eyes silently begging her not to contradict her statement.

"What about you, Quinn? What interactions have you had with Rachel that made you so against staying here?

Well, if Rachel wasn't going to say it, then Quinn sure as hell wasn't going to incriminate herself and get Shelby mad at her. There was, after all, little difference between what she had done in the past, using her popularity and status to bully a friendless Rachel, and the male nurse threatening Quinn in the dead of night. Except that Quinn was a random stranger whereasRachel was her daughter. If Shelby could scare the nurse that badly, badly enough that even Santana was afraid of her, there was no way in hell Quinn was going to confess to her previous wrongdoings, especially if Rachel was willing to keep mum about them as well. Still, she had to say something. But what?

Obviously, she had paused too long, however, because Rachel _had_ to jump in with a reply on her behalf.

"Maybe Quinn just finds it awkward to be living with someone she knows from school and doesn't want me to find out the reasons why she's here."

Quinn nodded quickly, thankful for the save even if she would never have admitted it. "What she said."

Shelby sighed. She supposed the girls probably had some bad blood between them, but she hoped this was more part of Quinn being "angry" and "difficult" than anything really serious. She knew she had said that Rachel would always come first and if Rachel wasn't comfortable with Quinn's presence, Quinn would have to go, but that didn't mean she would enjoy doing that to an already traumatized young girl, especially knowing few other homes would be willing to take her in, and that the hospital hadn't been quite the safe haven for her as it should have been.

"Well, I haven't said anything to either of you about the other, except that both of you experienced difficulties at home with your respective parents and needed a place to stay. You can choose to tell each other everything else when you wish to, or not at all, your secrets are yours to keep or share, and not mine to tell. So you don't have to worry about that."

Quinn nodded, slightly grateful. At least there was that. Surprisingly, it seemed like Rachel wasn't going to be babbling, so she was going to be staying after all. Staying to be bossed around by Rachel of all people, to watch Shelby fawn over her precious, amazing daughter... Well, she supposed there were worse things in life than that.

As long as she and her baby were safe and healthy, it didn't matter where she stayed, she told herself firmly. They had each other, that was all they needed.

"Alright. Quinn, like I told you at the hospital, you will be sharing a room with Rachel for the time being. Rachel, why don't you show her to your room, help her unpack a little? Are either of you hungry? It's kind of late for a late lunch, so I'll prepare some snacks for when you're done packing, and we can all have an early dinner instead."

...

Quinn walked into the room and sighed. She was mildly surprised that it wasn't as princess-y or blindingly dramatic as she had feared it might be. Sure, bits of Broadway peeked out at her from various corners of the room, and she was definitely not surprised to see the face of Barbra Streisand looking out at her from the book shelves or the numerous competition trophies that lined the other shelves, but at least it didn't look like a Broadway theatre had vomited all over the room.

No, what caused her to sigh was that half the room had been cleared away, apparently for her arrival. The trophies only lined half the shelves, the books and stationary only covered half the desks - at least both sides of the damned bed had pillows on them.

She set her face firmly in a scowl as she unpacked. Perfect Rachel had probably thought she was doing Quinn a favor when she had cleared half her furniture for Quinn but she wasn't. This was _humiliating_. Rachel's half of the furniture had trophies proudly displayed on them whereas she didn't even have enough possessions to fill her half of the shelves. Her meager few sets of clothing went into the cupboard, toiletries into the bathroom - at least she could almost fill her half of _those_ shelves – and finally, her school things went on the desk.

Unpacking barely took twenty minutes. When she was done, the half empty spaces on the shelves and cabinets stared back at her glaringly, just serving to emphasize how little she now had.

Wait. Unpacking had taken her _twenty_ minutes. During which Rachel had not yet said a word, other than her initial offer to help her unpack. After getting rejected rather rudely by being told to "get lost", Rachel had mostly just stood in the doorway, watching her.

_Weird_. Wasn't Rachel's default mode like, incessantly talking and doling out unwanted advice to everyone she met? She didn't know the diva could survive standing in the same room as someone else for twenty minutes without talking. Moreover, this was her room, and Quinn had just told her to get lost from it, and she hadn't started lecturing her on proper manners in another person's property or some other equally obnoxious speech. If she didn't take crap from people in school, then why the hell was she taking crap from Quinn in her own room, without retaliating indignantly like she always did?

Whatever. If Rachel wasn't going to start talking, then Quinn would. And maybe try to be a little nicer this time.

"You don't have to give me half your cupboards. I only have a few sets of clothes, school books, and other basic necessities with me, definitely no _trophies_ to line your shelves with."

"Mom wanted me to clear the space for you."

_And of course, whatever "Mom" says, you do, Little Miss Goody-two-shoes. How could I have forgotten what a stickler for rules Rachel is?_

"Yeah, whatever."

"Couldn't you get more things from your house? I'm sure Mom wouldn't mind driving you there to pick them up."

Quinn shrugged. Her house and what went on there was not something she wanted to think about just yet.

"So," she said casually, trying to not make it obvious that she was attempting to change the topic. "Your Mom is the "family" that you said you were living with?"

"Yes," Rachel agreed, bracing herself for yet another homophobic rant. Quinn had made her stand on homosexuality very clear in the past few years, although it was usually her fathers that she attacked, not their surrogate. Then again, her mother had hardly come into the picture until recently. "She was my fathers' surrogate. You were right downstairs, when you said we only met ten days ago. Exactly ten days. She left her emergency contact when I was born and CPS contacted her when... When my fathers got into trouble. She was living in New York previously."

"So she's your birth mother and she adopted you as her... foster daughter?"

"Not adopt," Rachel clarified quickly. "Just temporary custody." It wasn't exactly her favourite topic to discuss but it did remind her of something she still needed to talk to Quinn about.

"Please don't tell my mother that we don't get along," she blurted out, unable to keep it in for much longer. Keeping silent had never been her strong suit. Especially in a situation such as this, where there was so much she wanted to ask, so much she needed to say.

Quinn scowled. There it was, even if it wasn't exactly directly said. Which was odd, because Rachel was usually more straightforward with her comments and approach. She had never been one who delivered subtle threats to anyone but she supposed this was a different situation. She was in a position of "power" here, in _her_ house, _her_ room, living with _her_ mother. She didn't need to shout loudly to make herself heard; subtlety was all she needed to get the message across.

The role reversal was not lost on her. She had only ever interacted with Rachel before in school, where she was used to being superior to her - to everyone, really. Now, the tables were turned and she was living in Rachel's home, in the custody of Rachel's mother. Even in school now, Rachel was an honorary Cheerio, whereas she was currently a nobody, just another Glee club freak.

Quinn sighed. She had made her choice, she was the one who had chosen to run away from her home and get help. Staying with Rachel might not have been her first choice but it could have been worse. However bad this was, it had to be safer than home had been. While the idea of acting out was very tempting, the idea of having to change homes again and again, like damaged, unwanted goods, something she knew most foster children had to go through, was almost too hard to handle. She would just have to swallow her pride, she decided. She was doing this for her baby's sake.

"Define "don't get along". Because it seems to me that even a blind man who saw us downstairs would realize that we're definitely not "friends", whatever you want your mother to believe otherwise."

"The slushies, the name-calling, the pornographic drawings, making sure others are too scared of you to befriend me..."

Quinn rolled her eyes. Okay, there was the Rachel Berry she knew, every detail of what she was threatening Quinn about spelt out ever so very clearly, as if either of them needed a reminder. There was one all too glaring question, though.

"How could your Mom not know about the slushies? She picked you up that day, right?"

Rachel looked at her questioningly.

"You know, Slushie Thursday. The text message telling the whole school to slushy you? The huge fight with Karofsky after which CPS came for you?" A look of recognition finally crossed Rachel's face, and Quinn continued with her actual question. "That was the day you met your mother, right?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes, it was. And she did see my clothes from that day. She knows about the slushies, but she just doesn't know who… And she doesn't need to know. I know we aren't friends and it might be too much to ask for us to start acting like friends, but couldn't we act like acquaintances? Like two students who know each other from school and from Glee but just don't know each other all that well..."

Quinn frowned at Rachel's words. Okay, so she may have been wrong. That did not sound like a threat, more like a plea._ What was wrong with this girl?_

She gave Rachel an incredulous look. "You actually want me to stay here with you and your mother, to share a room with you?"

"Maybe not _want_, but I don't mind it. Do you?"

"It's not like I have much of a choice in this but that's not the point, is it? Why would you want to be nice to me when I've been so mean to you? I mean, even after I apologised to you and we sang you that song, I was still rude to you, told you we weren't friends and yelled at you downstairs just now. I'm sure if you told your mother about everything I've done to you, she would have me kicked out of your home in a jiffy. Don't you want that?"

Rachel shrugged. _Are you seriously unable to see it? Look at yourself. You're pretty, popular, confident and smart. You have many friends, and the quarterback Finn Hudson is your boyfriend. Every girl wants to be you, and every boy wants to be with you. And then look at me - who in their right mind would choose you over me?_

"You need a home and I really don't mind sharing as long as you don't mind it either. But we might not get to share if we quarrel and my mother finds out that we're kind of... enemies?" _God, that sounded so weird._ "That we don't quite get along," she corrected, looking nervously at Quinn to check her response.

Quinn smiled slightly. "You aren't my enemy," she stated awkwardly. "And I suppose we could be acquaintances. We have known each other for quite some time, after all."

A better person would probably have said 'Thank you', agreed to be Rachel's friend and apologised for her multiple previous refusals to do so, but she wasn't quite there yet. Apparently, that was more than sufficient though, because Rachel was now beaming happily at her, as though she had just cured her of cancer.

Relief swept over Rachel. "Thank you so much, Quinn!" she exclaimed, quite unaware that her thankfulness was just making Quinn feel even worse than before.

**A/N. Happy New Year's Day, everyone!  
**

**My fanfic resolution for 2013: To finish this story before the end of this year, hopefully well before December.  
**

**Also, a question that I've been pondering for a long time but haven't quite settled: Brittany has been startlingly missing for the longest time, which feels weird since she's part of the Unholy Trinity. How much do you think Quinn and Santana would tell her about the truth, or how do you think she would/should find it out?  
**


	41. Braced myself for the goodbye, Part 2

Guest – You're right, it would be traumatising for Rachel, but it would also help her in the long run. As for the timing of the hearing, I thought that they usually take longer to occur, and since only less than 2 weeks have occurred, it wouldn't have happened yet. Anyway, I must confess that the legal process baffles me despite the research I've done into it, and that part of this story is not going be realistic, unless I manage to get help from someone familiar with American law, simply because I don't know how to make it so. However, your suggestion is noted and I'll look into it and fit it in if I can (:

ekcandyapple – Quinn's escape happened on a Friday, so Quinn hasn't missed any school yet, but she will miss school on Monday, which is why I needed to figure out what Brittany is going to get to know (: Finn as well but if the bathtub explanation works for him, I'm guessing he'll buy any explanation for Quinn's absence as well.

NZgleek91 – Yes, she is, but that's not all. She thinks Coach Sue has power but had no problems refusing her, and she thinks Karofsky and Azimio have (physical) power but had no problems slapping them. She is submissive towards people in authority whom she loves which is Shelby and her fathers. As for Quinn, Rachel doesn't exactly love Quinn. However, she is an insecure little girl who would do anything to stay with her mother (much like how in canon, Rachel would do anything to stay with Finn), so that's why she is submissive towards Quinn, whom she thinks is her mother's favoured daughter.

CaitlinSeu – She will tell them soon but since she found out what she knows by eavesdropping, it's a little hard for her to confess to that.

Em – Okay, thanks! A closer Brittany-Rachel friendship would be very interesting (:

Rini – It'll work out eventually, but without torture, there wouldn't be much of a story to tell (nor would it be very realistic). They will eventually get on for genuine reasons, but I needed Rachel to have a reason for Quinn to stay. If Rachel was secure in her placement in Shelby's house and was as much of a diva as she normally is in canon, I think she might have shut the door in Quinn's face the moment she found out who her new roommate is.

Comegetit – Thank you.

Guest – Haha, Quinn is trying very hard, and I think she is being much nicer than she was at the start of the fic. Give her time (:

Renata – I think that bullies become bullies for a reason, and in Quinn's case, her upbringing definitely had a role to play. Her father is a bully himself, he praises her when she's a bully, and specifically instructs her to bully Rachel. She also has a lot to be angry about. While you're right that her past doesn't make it right, it is understandable. I find it hard to judge her, given that if put in the same circumstance, I can't say I wouldn't have done what she did, or worse. I'm not sure if they will eventually say the words "I'm sorry" to Rachel, but as Maribel says, actions speak louder than words. They will make it up to Rachel in their own way, and I hope their actions will redeem them in your eyes (:

Alese222 – That would happen eventually, but it'll be a few chapters coming. I wouldn't want to waste all the stuff I've written for the next few days, heh. XD I can't possibly make Rachel wait a few weeks before she tells Shelby the truth, and then there's that Unholy Trinity sleepover coming up this Friday too! But don't worry, Quinn/Rachel normal interactions, school with all it's accompanying drama, and Brittany are all in the plans (:

shiniso – Yay! Haha. The two girls will both eventually relax a little and become friends but it'll take some time to happen.

CarmellaD'Winter – Rachel will definitely spend more alone time with Shelby, especially when Shelby discovers Rachel's real thoughts/feelings about Quinn's arrival.

Shana – Haha. Shelby very much appreciates your well wishes (:

JWilson18 – Haha, I'm sorry if it wasn't enough, but finals are approaching and I'm really busy with school. However, I'm glad it was what you were waiting for (:

JAMES-EAI – Hello, you're back! I've missed your reciews, haha. Thanks (:

monprincess – Haha, thank you. Yes, they will, I think they will learn more about each other than they even wanted to know, lol.

BellaDora Soulmates – Thanks for the input! And you're welcome about the update, haha.

SA03 – Thank you for seeing that Quinn can be good to Rachel if given a chance! Good _for_ Rachel too (:

lemon-rind – Haha, Quinn is generally pretty good at keeping her cool, but Rachel is her Achilles' heel, and just plain gets on her nerves, haha. The two just rub each other the wrong way, lol. I agree that Santana and Brittany are very much 'two for one' but given that Quinn could only run to one person's house, I'm now left wondering how Quinn and Santana would deal with this situation with regards to the absent Brittany.

Emy – It's okay, I completely understand how hectic life can get. Sometimes, I also really want to just put this entire story in hiatus due to the sheer amount of other stuff I have to do, haha. Thanks for your input (:

GreenLemons – Haha, I'm glad you enjoy the questions. I enjoy all your answers too (: As for Rachel's feelings about Quinn's alone time with Shelby, she is pretty possessive and jealous, isn't she? XD Not without reason, I suppose.

Anon – Thanks for your suggestions (:

Guest – Haha :D Thanks!

xanidoo – Thanks! (:

FacingFuture – Thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you love this fic (:

Liaah – Wow, that's a very detailed suggestion. Thanks! I'll definitely take it into account.

emilycw98 – Sorry for the long wait, I've just been really busy. Yeah, this story is really slow. I just have so many scenes playing out in my head but so little time to write them out. So, many scenes per day + only a few scenes per chapter = Many chapters describing very few days = A very slow paced story. Thanks for still putting up with it (:

ArmadilloPretzels – Thank you for pointing out my mistake, I've gone back and corrected it (:

Chapter 39. Braced myself for the goodbye, Part 2

"Quinn, are you okay?" Shelby asking, when she saw how Quinn was staring at her half eaten plate and looking a little green in the face.

Quinn looked down at her plate nervously. Her state of being pregnant wasn't exactly something she wanted to declare at the dinner table when Rachel was around as well. She looked at Shelby and then over at her medication bag where she knew her prenatal vitamins and anti-nausea medications were, hoping she would get the hint.

Oh! Shelby realized suddenly. She could have smacked herself for forgetting about Quinn's pregnancy nausea.

"It's okay if you can't finish your dinner," she told Quinn. If Rachel wasn't here, she might have been able to elaborate further that she had experienced pretty bad morning sickness herself when she was pregnant with Rachel, so she could definitely empathise. However, she couldn't very well give up Quinn's secret so easily after she had promised to keep both their secrets, so that was really all she could say.

She turned to Rachel, who was staring at the both of them and ignoring her meal entirely. It was barely touched, she had eaten even less than Quinn had.

Shelby sighed. Either her cooking skills were terrible, or she simply had the misfortune of having the two girls with the worst appetites in history. Weren't teenagers supposed to be bottomless pits?

"Are _you_ okay, Rachel?"

Rachel looked pleadingly at her mother. She really didn't feel like eating. Couldn't her mom see that Quinn's presence had robbed her entirely of her appetite? How could she eat when she was constantly afraid that at any moment, Sharon would appear at the door and take her away?

"I feel very full, Mom. I really don't feel like eating anything at all. Could I please not finish my dinner as well?"

Shelby sighed again, something she was beginning to realize she had been doing a lot of. "No, Rachel. You didn't have lunch, and no, the sandwich and the protein drink you had 3 hours ago doesn't count as a meal. Please try to eat at least half of your dinner. You've been managing at least half your plate every meal this past week and I don't want you to back slide. We've talked about this, remember? You've been making good progress but you still need to continue eating normal meals if you want to continue gaining weight. And if you can, drink your protein drink too, okay?"

Rachel nodded unhappily and turned her attention back to her dinner plate. This wasn't fair, she sulked, stabbing at the broccoli with her fork. Quinn was skinny too, why didn't she need to gain weight as well? Why was Quinn allowed to not finish her dinner and she wasn't? Already, her mom was being so much nicer to Quinn than she was to her, she was totally favouring Quinn over her.

"Don't give me that attitude, Rachel," Shelby warned. She had never really thought that jealousy would become a problem when she agreed to take Quinn in, but apparently it now was, and over such a silly issue as who was allowed to not clear their plate.

"Quinn has stomach troubles," she explained. "Her doctor has explained it to me and even prescribed her medication for it. By the way, Quinn, remember to take your medication later, okay?"

Quinn nodded. The food did smell good, pregnancy nausea was just such a bitch.

Shelby turned back to Rachel and continued, "Whereas in your case, the doctors have told you that you need to eat _more_, so that's what I'm going to make sure you do. Just try your best, please."

Quinn glanced over at Rachel. She had seemed quite happy just now in the room, but now she just looked moody again. She studied the manner in which Rachel was picking listlessly at her food. Truth be told, she had nothing to compare Rachel's eating behaviour with, since she couldn't remember seeing Rachel eat lunch before. There was frequently music coming from the choir room or auditorium during lunch, so she assumed that was where Rachel normally ate her lunch, probably because no one dared to sit with her, Quinn thought a little guiltily.

Still, the way she was playing with her food, cutting it into pieces and moving it around her plate while not actually putting any of these pieces into her mouth was oddly reminiscent of the manner in which some of the more insecure Cheerios ate, right before they got diagnosed with anorexia. The balance between obeying Coach Sylvester's orders and avoiding that dark abyss was not one that all the girls managed to keep, and Quinn knew for a fact that when most of them returned to school, they also had to throw away their Coach Sylvester protein shakes and drink equally disgusting hospital-prescribed protein drinks. Like Rachel apparently had to as well, she thought, eyeing Rachel's glass.

Rachel never eating lunch in the cafeteria could also be because some anorexics hated eating in front of other people. And she certainly was skinny enough to qualify. To top it all off, Shelby had mentioned that Rachel was under doctor's orders to eat more and gain weight. Quinn frowned. Could Rachel possibly be anorexic? There was one easy way to find out.

When Shelby returned to the kitchen to refill the flask of water, Quinn leaned over to Rachel. "Are you anorexic?"

Rachel frowned. "Anorexia means lacking in appetite for food, and since I've already mentioned that I do not have a good appetite today, I believe I have pretty much answered your question. You are anorexic as well, by the way, since you told Mom the same thing about your own appetite. However, I assume by the manner in which you phrased your question that you meant to ask me whether I have been diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, which is a common mistake to make. I am suitably confident that that is the question you had intended to ask me, so to reply that question, no, I am not suffering from such a condition." She assumed there was no need to further explain why, since she thought it was pretty obvious that she was too fat to have anorexia nervosa.

Quinn glared at Rachel as she delivered her irritating speech. In truth, Rachel was looking more and more like herself by the second. A long obnoxious speech correcting others' mistake and making herself sound superior. Gods, living and rooming with her was going to be _torture_. "A simple 'no' would have been more than sufficient, RuPaul," Quinn snapped at Rachel, when she finally concluded her rant.

Rachel looked hurt, although she tried to hide it. "I was only clarifying what you meant," she stated indignantly, "otherwise your question wouldn't even have made sense and if I had said yes, I'm anorexic because I mean that I lack appetite tonight, but you with your mistaken vocabulary had taken it to mean that I have anorexia nervosa, even though I have no idea how you could have even come to such a conclusion, you could have subsequently gone on to spread such a rumour to everyone else at school."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "And again, you can't just _shut up_ for a minute, you always need to have the last word, always have to win every argument and cannot ever let anyone's error go unmentioned. What's next _dwarf_, are you going to announce my stupid English error on your MySpace page and gloat about your superior vocabulary?"

"Girls!" Shelby spoke up sharply from beside them. She cleared her throat and waited till she had both their attention before speaking. "I can't believe I can't even go to the kitchen to refill a flask of water before the two of you start squabbling? I thought the both of you said you had "made peace" in the room just now?

At least they both had enough sense to remain silent and look guilty. Shelby sighed. So much for escaping a quarrel just now, it hadn't even been a few hours and they were at each others' throats again. Both of them this time - it seemed that Quinn was able to bring out a side of Rachel that she had yet to see. She hoped this wasn't going to be a regular thing from now on, because she didn't know how far her very limited patience could carry her. If she couldn't even leave them alone long enough to fill up a flask of water, she wasn't quite sure she could put them in the same room and trust them not to fight everyday. She was already calculating in her head when was the soonest she could get her office sound proofed, her boxes unpacked and her guest room furnished sufficiently for Quinn to move in there.

Give them a chance, Shelbs. And nip this squabbling in the bud immediately, otherwise you are really going to have a trying few days ahead of you. Bring out your inner Coach Corcoran and make sure you lay down the rules of proper behavior from the start. They may be abused, traumatized girls but that doesn't mean you can let them run wild without rules. Children thrive in an environment where rules are clearly laid out and lovingly but strictly and consistently enforced.

By now, the long silence had left Rachel in a nervous wreck. She worried her lower lip anxiously and stared down at her plate, feeling a strong need to throw up the little food she had eaten. She tried valiantly to not think about what was going to happen next and just focused on taking the next breath. And the next.

Quinn was faring a little better but not by much. She could now see traces of the "freakily scary woman" that Santana had been raving about. Even now, when Shelby wasn't saying anything, her narrowed eyes and angry posture still managed to convey stern disapproval.

Quinn cursed at herself. _How quickly you forget that you're in Rachel's house now, living under her mother's roof. You're not in school and you're not HBIC, You can't just insult her and yell at her as you please anymore, no matter how annoying she is and how much she deserves it! Besides, what had happened to trying to be nicer to Rachel to thank her for not sharing your nefarious past with Shelby?_

Shelby took a deep breath to collect her thoughts. Thinking of the names that Quinn had just called Rachel made her think of Rachel's unpopularity at school, and in her book, there wasn't much of a difference between calling someone names and throwing slushies at them, especially if the victim was her daughter. If the two were connected, she could feel the full force of 'Coach Corcoran' threatening to take over... No, Quinn had been hurt badly, put in a confusing situation she was still having problems adjusting to, and was probably just using anger as a defensive mechanism. She wasn't going to read any more into this.

She turned to Rachel to deal with her first. Besides the high likelihood that Rachel would be the easier of the two to deal with, lecturing her own daughter first would make it seem like she wasn't biased. Hopefully Rachel's obedient acceptance of her lecture like she already knew she would, would inspire the same obedience from Quinn too, and she might be able to avoid another shouting match.

"In this house, we will speak politely to each other. Rachel, it's impolite to correct other people's incorrect use of English during a conversation. Even if it were absolutely necessary to do so, it would have been kinder to perhaps simply ask Quinn if she is referring to 'anorexic' the adjective or 'anorexia nervosa' the medical condition. Such a long speech and repeated correction of her error makes her feel like she is under attack, which makes her get defensive."

Rachel looked at her mother and nodded. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Her mother's eyes had lost most of their initial anger, and were now kinder, despite her firm words. However, she knew a scolding when she heard one, and she held her breath waiting for her punishment to be dealt out to her. Surprisingly, none came. Her mom just turned to Quinn and started lecturing her as well.

"Quinn, I've already warned you about the use of coarse language just now, and now, I have to add calling people names to the list. I do not tolerate rudeness in my house. I only gave you a warning just now because I understood that it was your first day and you were shocked by the identity of my daughter, so I was prepared to go easy on you. You, however, clearly did not take that warning to heart, seeing as that warning only took place a few hours ago. While I understand that you were defensive of yourself just now, such language is still not acceptable. This will be last warning, after which, if you continue to insist on being rude, I will be forced to start doling out punishments, something I really do not want to do."

Shelby paused, reminding herself of Quinn's injuries, of how she had been punished in the past, and she knew that just like with Rachel, she would need to talk to Quinn sometime soon about what she meant by "punishments" instead of allowing the girl to worry about a repeat performance of the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her father. For now, Quinn did not look too afraid, so she set that task aside, not wanting to relax her attitude now and give Quinn the wrong impression that this was not serious. Children needed consistency, she reminded herself.

She sighed, wondering why she had gotten herself into this in the first place. Should she have spoken to the two girls separately as well? It would definitely have been more comfortable for herself, and allowed her to speak more freely and specifically to each girl, without having to check herself to ensure she did not divulge anything she wasn't supposed to.

Well, what was done was done, she told herself firmly. The silence had once again gone on for too long anyway, and she needed to say something. "Any questions?"

Quinn winced internally when Shelby mentioned a punishment but she kept her eyes down and her face schooled in her familiar mask of indifference. Shelby wasn't like her father, she told herself, she couldn't be. CPS wouldn't allow it, and Maribel wouldn't allow it either, she reminded herself, but the annoying niggling voice in her head reminded her that Maribel had never detected anything wrong with Russell and Judy either. Then again, there was no way Quinn would hide the truth from either of them if Shelby started beating on her.

Don't be silly, she scolded herself. This is Rachel's mom. There was no way Rachel's mom was a child abuser, Rachel was not a wimp like herself. Rachel was willing to stand up to the two biggest guys in school, she was the last person you would call a coward. If Shelby ever raised a hand to Rachel, she would report her mother in a heartbeat, or at the very least, complain to her beloved fathers and set her enraged, doting and overprotective fathers on Shelby. No, however "scary" Shelby was, she wouldn't hit children, Quinn reassured herself.

A quick glance at Rachel, however, caused her to rethink her previous statement. Rachel looked awfully frightened for a simple scolding and she hadn't even been the one who had been calling the other names. Shelby hadn't even mentioned any punishment for her beloved daughter, so what the hell was she so scared of? Her obnoxiously long speech might have given them a glimpse of the real Rachel Berry but it was quickly disappearing again , once again replaced by the nervous, quiet shell of a girl that Quinn couldn't quite recognize.

It hit Rachel suddenly. Her mother had threatened to punish Quinn but not her. Why? They had both taken part in the quarrel, however brief this particular argument had been as compared to their regular spats, and they had both been at fault, both had the way they had been impolite pointed out to them. That's where the similarities ended, however, as Quinn was the only one who had been threatened with a punishment. She had finally found what was worse than a punishment: Not being punished. Not being worth a punishment. Quinn had gotten a "last warning" and a promise of future punishment because Shelby would be keeping her around long enough for her to make future mistakes. Whereas Rachel might not even be here tomorrow, so what was the point in punishing her, much less warning her? There probably wouldn't even be time for her to commit a "next time".

She was almost tempted to shout this at her mother now, to see how far she could carry said rudeness before her mother would give in and hit her but Rachel found that she couldn't do it. Her impoliteness to Quinn had angered and disappointed her mother, and she found herself needing to apologise immediately to express how sorry she was. Not necessarily sorry that she had quarreled with Quinn but rather, sorry that her quarrel had been witnessed by her mother and given her beloved mother yet another bad impression of her.

"I'm sorry for pointing out your error, Quinn," Rachel apologised softly.

"I'm sorry too, for calling you names." Quinn paused. "Rachel," she added for good measure. _Rachel_, she reminded herself. Not 'RuPaul', not 'midget', not 'ManHands'… In this house, Rachel would have to be called 'Rachel' not any of the collection of names that Quinn had cooked up for her over the past few years.

Well, that had gone rather more peacefully than she had expected, thought Shelby. Quinn, at least, looked none the worse for the wear, although Rachel still had anxiety and fear written all over her face. Shelby sighed internally. Her first guess would be that Rachel was still afraid of being starved or beaten or some other ridiculous punishment that her fathers had done to her in the past, although she hated so much that that was the first thing that had come to her mind.

"Alright, apologies accepted. Let's not bring this up again as long as the both of you learn to play nice, okay? I know this living arrangements wasn't what you expected, but let's make do as best as we can and learn to get along."

...Or one of you will get kicked out, no prizes for guessing who, Rachel continued in her head, still staring at her food and not daring to meet her mother's eye.

Quinn nodded her head at her but Rachel was still not looking up at her. This was getting tiring, and Shelby was beginning to wonder if there was more to this than what she was seeing. She reached over and nudged Rachel gently.

"I told you, I'm not mad anymore. You've both apologised to each other without any prompting from me, and I'm happy that you're both willing to see the error of your ways, and try and be nicer to each other."

Rachel nodded and looked up at her mother for the first time but still remained silent.

Encouraged, Shelby continued. "I also learnt a new vocabulary word today. I hadn't known what 'anorexic' meant. So thank you, Rachel, for teaching me a new word."

Rachel and Quinn looked quizzically at Shelby and she had to fight the urge not to laugh. She had to remain serious so as not to negate her previous lecture, but she had to admit, she much preferred Rachel's puzzled look to her fearful one.

"Your vocabulary is extensive," Shelby commented dryly. "I'm sure you'll do well in your SAT 1 this year." Hmm, they hadn't really discussed Rachel's academics yet, she realissee. "If you're taking it this year?"

"I already took it last year, freshman year. I got 2310." Rachel's face reddened in embarrassment. "I'm retaking it again this year," she reassured Shelby quickly. "I'll score better, I promise."

"2310 is a great score, Rachel, don't worry about it." 2310 was actually much higher than she had expected, especially for a first try in freshman year, but she also knew that Rachel had tremendous academic potential, and who was she to stand in the way of her daughter achieving a better score if she was capable of it? As long as she wasn't stressed out by it and knew that her mother want pressurizing her to do better, Shelby reminded herself.

Of course, Rachel thought bitterly. You wouldn't even be around during the next round of SAT tests, so why would you bother about my poor score?

Quinn rolled her eyes, an action that thankfully went unnoticed by Shelby who was still wowed by Rachel's SAT score. Which Quinn had to admit, was pretty impressive for a freshman, but there was no way she was admitting that sentiment, especially in front of perfect Rachel and her nice Mommy. If she was honest with herself, her strongest emotion now was not awe but jealousy. And the "one year younger" midget scores again, amazing everyone with her wonderful achievements and yet still not resting on her laurels, still determined to push herself to do even better. No matter how hard she tried, she really could never get out of Rachel Berry's shadow, could she?

**A/N. Hi guys! Firstly, my apologies for the short length of this chapter despite the long wait. My finals are coming up at the end of this month and the beginning of February, and I've been pretty swamped, so here's another early apology for the probably-going-to-be-delayed upload of 'Part 3' as well. By the way, I haven't fully completed my editing of this chapter yet, so do expect a few edits (probably minor) to come. I usually don't upload un-edited chapters, but I figured you guys have waited long enough.**

**Besides studying taking up all of my limited brain space available, I'm also still figuring out how this story will advance from here and working out some kinks, such as answering some of my own questions (such as the one I've asked about Brittany). Thus far, I've focused most of my attention on getting Rachel and Quinn into the same house (where they are right now), and now that that has been accomplished, I need to figure out their future storyline, where they're going to go from here and how/when to eventually end the story. All suggestions on that are welcome as well (:**

**Thank you so much for all your input on what I think should happen with Brittany.. There were many replies, some very detailed and while I hope you'll understand that I can't use all of them, I've read through them several times, and they have given me many fresh ideas on what I can do with Britt's storyline. I hope you'll all enjoy reading about her when I've figured out my own answer to my question, heh. In the mean time, if anyone has any more ideas on how / how much Brittany finds out about Quinn and Rachel's secrets, do continue to let me know (:**

**Because this question worked out so well, I shall post my other question. Thus far, Maribel has had some interactions with Quinn and one with Shelby. As many people have pointed out, Shelby is headed for some pretty rough times looking after the two girls. She needs a friend, and I think Maribel would be the perfect friend for her (which answers some previously asked questions regarding who else the Lopezes will be helping besides Quinn). My idea is that she will start off helping Shelby with Quinn but will eventually help with Rachel as well. However, Maribel doesn't know about Rachel yet, so I'm not sure she can find out about Rachel. I would hate for Dr Lopez to break Rachel's patient confidentiality because it would spoil the picture of an "ultimate professional" that I've painted him as thus far. Any ideas?**


	42. Braced myself for the goodbye, Part 3

CaitlinSeu – Actually, I didn't say if Mr. Lopez told Maribel or not, I only wrote from Maribel's perspective that "he (her husband) would talk to her when he was ready." It was written that way on purpose, because I didn't know if or how much he would share with his wife. The thing is, technically, doctors are allowed to share about their experiences with their spouses (e.g. for emotional support after traumatic experiences) as long as no patient identifiers are mentioned. But he would feel pretty guilty if she eventually found out who Rachel is, even if it's only indirectly through something that he said. Thanks for your suggestions (:

JWilson18 – They will all eventually become friends, just to varying extents. I like happy endings XD

Guest – I think Shelby is doing a pretty decent job. My A/N was actually about Shelby (not Quinn) needing someone, because really, she is the one person in the story who still doesn't have anyone, and she is being handed the responsibility of being the main caregiver of two very traumatized girls who don't quite along just yet. Helping her would go a long way to helping Rachel. Let me assure you that Rachel is the main character, and she's not going to be written out and she will be cared for. It's funny, because Quinn was the one I was worried would be neglected, heh.

Anon – Haha, she does, doesn't she? It would be so cool if she could turn into Professor X for just one night and sort through all their emotional baggage. Unfortunately, she can't, so she's going to have to do this the normal, much harder way of supporting them and encouraging them until they feel safe/secure enough to open up.

Shit writing – My Rachel is very different from canon, because she had a very different upbringing. That's why this story has been labelled "AU" from Day 1 (:

Joey – I'm sorry to hear that. "Open wounds" is a fantastic story, and beaner008 is a wonderful author. I'm afraid it's not much of a criticism to hear that I don't write as well, because that story is very beautifully written. I can only continue to try my best with what I have (:

CarmellaD'Winter – Thanks (:

beaner008 – Thanks for the ideas! I'm excited to finally get the girls into the same house too (:

Rini – Thanks (: I like your description of what Rachel is currently doing – "self torture". So true.

gogolax – Okay, thanks (:

shiniso – Thanks! Yup, I really enjoy writing Rachel's obnoxious "little" speeches. Very fun (:

NZgleek91 – You're welcome, I enjoy talking about my characters, heh. Thanks for your patience in waiting (:

GreenLemons – Haha, I'm glad you find their fighting amusing. Thanks for your input about Maribel/Shelby (:

WittyNinja – Thanks. Yup, Quinn certainly needs some perspective. I imagine without it, Rachel's current behaviour is rather confusing for her, lol.

lemon-rind – Haha, that's some interesting insight into your (?) childhood. How did you cope with family members / family friends finding out things about you that you would rather they not know?

monprincess – Thanks (:

ekcandyapple – Happy to clear up any confusion. Thanks (:

Guest – Very soon, within… a couple of days? Yes, I think both girls would benefit from that shared knowledge. At the very least, given what Rachel knows about Quinn, it's probably only fair that Quinn knows some things about Rachel's past too.

You-Know-Who-I-Is – Thanks (:

Shana – Yup, he is the guy with all these secrets but there's not much he can do with any of it. I wrote it this way on purpose, because as medical professionals, people tell you so many secrets but often professional limits or lack of resources means there's so little you can do to really help them, and it can get quite frustrating. But he's a big boy, and he can handle it without breaking any of the girls' trust (:

Alese222 – It was 2 weeks 3 days, heh. I did estimate 2 week intervals, so just to give you fair warning that such intervals are likely to continue after my finals. This chapter is about their interaction after dinner, hope you enjoy it (:

Renata – Actually, I think Maribel and Shelby would both agree that given Santana's attitude towards Shelby, it's probably best she doesn't visit them yet. To explain more about Santana, she is an angry girl who's also a bitch to everybody, but she didn't target Rachel – at most, she called her names at times, turned a blind eye to Quinn's bullying and refused to be her friend. Pretty much everyone else at school did the same thing. While it's still wrong and Maribel will see that, I hope that helps you understand why Santana's crimes aren't so bad. Quinn does have a sister Frannie, and she has been mentioned quite a few times, although I haven't told her full background story yet.

Guest – Thanks! Yup, it's really fun to write how Rachel and Quinn are trying to figure each other out. It's like the title of the story – "Appearances". They both know or at least, can guess that each other's previous behaviour was more or less a façade and they both know that they each have secrets they don't want people to know, and they're both simultaneously trying to figure out each other's secrets and hide their own XD

sdmwd1115 – Thanks for reviewing, and don't worry about not reviewing every chapter (: Don't worry about ranting either. :P San is angry/bitchy for many reasons, one of which being that it's just her personality, and another that she is a repressed lesbian. She is definitely not nice to Rachel, but she doesn't go out of her way to bully Rachel like Quinn does.

SA03 – Haha, yes, but because I'm so slow, them moving forward might take some time, hehe. However, Rachel's realisation and talk with Shelby will definitely happen before Quinn's sleepover, so hopefully that's good news (: I'm not cruel enough to torture Rachel for too long.

TrudyGill23 – Rachel actually already knows, she previously overheard Sharon sharing with Shelby that Quinn was pregnant. As for the grades, she skipped 2nd grade, so she took her SATs in 9th grade, although yes, she was only the age of an 8th grader at that time. I have to confess here that Singaporeans only do SATs for fun, and I've no idea when Americans usually take their SATs. I took mine at 17 but some of my friends took theirs way earlier, and given how much allowance they gave us in our application, I just assumed you're allowed to take your SATs anytime you want.

FireBluez1115 – She is going to clear that up within a couple of days, but it might be a few more chapters for you my poor readers suffering through my very slow writing, haha. I'm glad you like my story, sorry to hear that you're sick, and I hope you're feeling better now (:

BellaDora Soulmates – That's an interesting idea. As for Rachel's self-esteem, I agree that it's low, and she believes she is bad. However, I think she wants people to think she's good, which is why she flaunts her achievements and corrects others' errors, and all of that obnoxious attitude stems from her deep insecurity. It's like her self-worth depends on these achievements, because she doesn't believe she has intrinsic self-worth.

happyashy – Thanks for the idea.

Guest – Good to know, I didn't actually know that. Can I just assume the detention hearing determined that the removal should be upheld and that Rachel's fathers were subsequently denied the right to visit her? I did mention earlier that Russell was going to pull strings and get the appropriate personnel on board to make things difficult for the Berry men. Heh. I hope this stuff isn't too important to you, because honestly, the Berry men will only come back into the picture when it relates to Rachel's healing and her relationship with Shelby. This story will definitely focus a lot more on her relationships with Quinn and Shelby (:

**A/N. Thanks for all your replies on Maribel! Here's your Chapter 40. I apologise for the long wait but after my finals I had Chinese New Year, which is a very busy period of time here in Singapore. It's still ongoing, actually – we celebrate it for 15 days. On that note, Happy Lunar New Year to all other Chinese readers, as well as anyone else who celebrates this festival (: **

**This chapter is longer than my previous few, which I hope makes up for the unusually long wait for it. Cheers!**

Chapter 40 – Braced myself for the goodbye, Part 3

Quinn stared at the bed. Amidst the whole drama of finding out that Rachel was Shelby's daughter, of finding out that Rachel at home was extremely different from Rachel at school, she had neglected to realise the ramifications of sharing a room with Rachel. Now that they had both washed up and were ready for bed, however, the realization hit her hard. There was two of them but only one bed. True, it was quite a big bed and Rachel was so tiny she would hardly take up any space on it, but this did not change the fact that they had to share this one bed. Never in a million years had she thought that one day she would be sleeping in the same bed as _Rachel Berry_.

But here they were.

Beside her, the same Rachel Berry was awkwardly staring at the bed too, indicating her obvious discomfort at the same dilemma. Clearly, neither girl was willing to be the first to climb on.

"Don't you have an air mattress or something that I could sleep on instead?" Quinn mumbled under her breath.

Sleeping on an air mattress for the rest of her high school life wasn't exactly her idea of comfort but at least it would allow them both to get to sleep tonight and she really was quite exhausted. Didn't Shelby mention she was preparing the guest room for her and that it shouldn't take more than a week? She supposed sleeping on an air mattress for a week shouldn't be so bad.

Rachel shook her head. "No, I don't think my mother is in possession of an air mattress. I could go and ask her but I think that even if she does have one, it would still be packed away in one of the boxes in the guest room and we would have to open many boxes to find it and get it out…"

Rachel saw Quinn sigh and rushed to clarify. "It's okay, though. The bed is yours, I can sleep on the floor. I don't mind. As long as I can borrow one of the blankets, because the floor is quite cold at this time of the year." She saw Quinn frown and shook her head. "Or not." She bit her lip unsure of what to say. This was her room, her bed, but then again, it probably wasn't really going to remain her room for much longer, even though neither of them knew when the changeover would occur. What was the social protocol here?

_If_, she reminded herself. If the changeover would occur. There was still some hope that she would get to stay, she couldn't allow herself to believe there was no hope left. Maybe her mother would change her mind and keep them both. Maybe Sharon would call to say that no one in town wanted to take in the annoying, unpopular daughter of two gay men. After all, the homosexual community was out of the question, they probably hated her for what she had done to her fathers, and she couldn't blame them. Maybe someone would be willing to do it for the state's money, but honestly, there were probably easier ways to earn money than taking in someone like her. Now a perfect girl like Quinn, on the other hand, most couples would probably be fighting to take her in.

Why was Quinn looking at her weirdly? Oh right, the bed. Had she really just been glaring at the bed? _Focus, Rach._

Honestly, she had never slept on the floor before but it couldn't be that uncomfortable, right? She knew she would sleep on the floor for the rest of the life if it meant she got to stay. Since it seemed as though getting along with Quinn would be essential if she wanted to stay on, then she was determined to do anything she could to ensure that would happen.

"So it's decided, then? I'll sleep on the floor tonight," Rachel declared decisively, as she moved to get one of the pillows.

"Are you nuts? You're not going to sleep on the floor. Not only is that utterly insane, your mother would kill me if I did that. We are both going to share your bed, it's big enough for the both of us."

"Really? Because you seem to be quite uncomfortable with that idea. But if you truly do not object to us sharing the bed, we could definitely do that as well. You're right that my mother might rather disapprove to my sleeping on the rather cold floor, especially considering that she is constantly reminding me to put on my slippers when I'm walking around the house otherwise I might catch a cold. Exposing my entire body to the floor as opposed to just my bare feet would probably cause me to catch a cold more easily."

She was rambling, she realised but she couldn't stop herself when she was this nervous.

"If it would help put you at ease, I'm not attracted to females, so you don't have to worry about that. My fathers were concerned that I would be gay hence fulfilling the prevailing societal opinion that two gay men would also raise a gay child, but I would like to assure you that I'm very much heterosexual. I normally wouldn't think to mention such a fact, but from our past interactions, especially those relating to my fathers, I have come to understand that you very much disapprove of homosexuality. That aside, I would also understand if a pretty girl like you would be hesitant to share a bed with someone who might develop feelings for you, so I hope it's reassuring for you to know that I wouldn't."

"You seriously need to talk less," Quinn informed her, rolling her eyes. "You're not a lesbian, got it, now just go lie down on your own damn bed."

She was not going to make any reference to Rachel's comments on her homophobic tendencies, or the fact that she had just called her 'pretty', and she sure as hell wasn't going to mention that she knew Rachel had a crush on her boyfriend Finn, so she was pretty certain the annoying midget wasn't gay. And of course, there was no way she was going to mention that the only other people she had willingly shared her bed with previously, besides her sister, were two girls whom she believed were definitely not as heterosexual as Rachel was. Then again, those two girls had only had eyes for each other and not for her, making that quite a different situation from this.

Nope, there were many things she could say but she wasn't going to say any of them. She wasn't insane, at the rate at which Rachel was talking without Quinn even contributing much to the conversation, they would never get to sleep if she tried to discuss any of those topics.

When Rachel still hesitated, Quinn decided she wasn't going to stand on ceremony any longer. She climbed onto the bed, making sure to keep only to the left side of the bed.

"Come on, this _is_ your bed, and you're so puny, I bet you wouldn't even take up a fifth of the bed. We can both fit quite nicely on it without even having to touch each other."

Thankfully, Rachel followed suit and lay down on the right side of the bed, although she was obviously lying as far away from Quinn as possible. It was almost comical, she was so exaggeratedly right on the edge on the bed that it looked like she was in serious danger of rolling off the bed onto the floor.

Quinn sighed. She had been trying her best to be nice, but she just hadn't been able to resist that last snarky comment. Something she was beginning to realize that she needed to try harder to control. It seemed like the Rachel Berry at home was very much different from the Rachel Berry at school. This Rachel Berry she was looking at right now was less confident, more nervous and less quick with a retort. It was ironic, really, because Rachel at school was always quick to defend herself and her fathers, even if Quinn had unofficially been of a higher social status than her. Whereas here in her own home, in her own _room_, where Rachel definitely held a superior status over her, Rachel seemed almost... submissive. That was certainly not a word she had ever thought she would use to describe Rachel Berry, and there was just something really odd about this whole situation and how Rachel was behaving.

Rachel lay down and edged as much as she could to the far right of the bed, so much so that she was almost dangling off the bed. Normally, she would think that there was no way she would be able to fall asleep while trying to maintain such a precarious position, but she doubted that sleep would come easily tonight anyway. She looked over to Quinn, who was frowning, and looked no more comfortable with their current shared situation than herself.

"…_More recently, her father raped her last night…"_

At the memory of those words, a sudden realization struck her and she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it sooner. She turned to Quinn hurriedly.

"I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable for you. I didn't think you would want to share your bed with anyone, after what your father did…"

_What the hell?_ Quinn's head snapped towards Rachel. "What do you know about my father?!" she growled at Rachel.

Startled, Rachel flinched backwards and promptly tumbled off the bed, landing in an ungainly heap on the floor.

Quinn couldn't care less. She jumped off the bed and stalked over to where Rachel was. "What do you know? More specifically, how the hell did you know anything at all about him? Who told you? You know nothing, you hear me? Nothing!"

"I'm sorry!" Rachel apologised quickly. "Mom didn't tell me, I overheard a conversation she had with your social worker, but I won't tell anyone anything, I promise!"

"What - Do - You - Know?" Quinn ground out.

"I know your father uh, hurt you..." Rachel spoke quietly, her eyes cast down. 'down there' she thought silently in her head, but was too frightened to speak those words out loud.

Quinn took a deep breath and jerked her head in a nod. _You're just being paranoid_, she told herself, trying to calm her pounding heart.

"Yes. He hurt me, and that's all. That's why I'm stuck in your stupid home with you and your mother. Nothing else happened, do you hear me? _Nothing_ else happened."

Rachel nodded her head frantically in agreement.

"Girls? What's going on here?" Shelby asked as she pushed upon the door. The ominous loud thud that she had heard from downstairs had startled her and as she had raced up the stairs, she had prayed that the two girls up there weren't fighting. She really didn't want to punish Quinn on her first night here, and she did not want to punish Rachel wel, _ever_. Especially after she had seen how her daughter responded in fear and expectation of punishment, at the slightest hint of anger from Shelby. Besides, Quinn was still hurt, and Rachel was still recovering from her previous infection, and she really didn't want to think about those two injuring each other and having to be sent back to the hospital.

So, when she opened the door to find Quinn standing over Rachel, who was lying on the floor, she immediately thought the worst. "You girls better not be fighting or I swear to God-"

Rachel stood up hastily and raised her hands showing that she was not injured. "I fell off the bed," she rushed to explain. "I rolled off the bed and fell on the floor and Quinn was just making sure I was okay. We weren't fighting, I promise! We were just getting into bed, and I was trying too hard to keep to my side of the bed that I wasn't aware of the edge, and when I moved too much to the right, I rolled right off. Quinn had nothing to do with it..."

Even as Rachel spoke, Quinn wanted to find someplace to hide. Despite it being the truth – or close enough to the truth, with the exception of the missing facts that it was Quinn's angry response that had caused Rachel to fall off the bed, and that Quinn had gone on to further yell at Rachel, _not_ help her up -, it sounded utterly fake, probably because Rachel was protesting too much and rambling on and on in too panicky a voice. She seriously needed to learn how to shut up. It was truly ironic, that while Quinn had blatantly lied her way out of trouble for all the mean things she had done to Rachel before, it seemed like she was now about to get in trouble for something she – for once – hadn't done.

"Was that what happened, Quinn?"

Quinn nodded, trying to keep the pace of her nods just right. Too fast or too slow and it might seem like she was too eager to agree to an obvious falsehood or too hesitant about agreeing to something she knew wasn't true. Was she thinking too hard? Could 'thinking too hard' be seen in a nod?

Shelby didn't buy it. Obviously, something more than a tumble off the bed had happened here. Not only were the two of them not very good at lying – which included lying by omission, 14-year-old girls don't just tumble off the bed, and this particular bed was definitely big enough for both of these two very slim girls to share, with plenty of room to spare.

However, it _was_ late and these two were clearly collaborating to keep some shared secret that she was unlikely going to be able to dig out of them tonight. Maybe she could just let this one slide. Anyway, with all the secrets that she was having to keep, it would be far easier for her to talk to Rachel and Quinn individually. Tomorrow.

Maybe by tomorrow, she would also have figured out what to say to them.

"Alright then, why don't the both of you go to bed now? It's getting late."

Rachel and Quinn climbed into bed quietly, with none of the drama that had accompanied their first time just a few minutes ago.

Shelby slowed down on her way to the door. She wanted to go over and kiss Rachel good night as she had become accustomed to doing over the past few nights but something stopped her. Quinn had been raped, she reminded herself. How would she feel about a good night kiss? Would she interpret it the wrong way? What if she just kissed Rachel and not Quinn? Would Quinn be okay with that? Would she feel left out? Or the reverse – would she feel afraid for Rachel? Shelby knew that Rachel's nervous behaviour had already raised a few eyebrows from Quinn so far; it was bad enough that Rachel was afraid of her, Shelby really didn't want Quinn to also think that there was anything to be afraid of.

Unfortunately her over-thinking had caused her feet to take her right up to the door and she froze, wondering if it would be too awkward to retrace her steps to kiss the girls good night now… If she ought to have done that in the first place.

_Would her brain please just stop hedging and make up its mind already?_

I'll talk to Quinn tomorrow, she decided. Ask her what she minds and what she doesn't, find out what her boundaries are and respect them. Tomorrow. This has already been a long enough day.

She stood in the doorway and cleared her throat. "Uh… Good night, girls," she said. Both girls were staring at her by now, and she hoped they hadn't found her behaviour too weird, hadn't guessed the tangle of thoughts that had just been messing with her head. _Get it together, Shelbs! _

"Good night, Mom" and "Good night, Ms Corcoran," came the two replies, before Shelby closed the door and headed downstairs. She really needed a drink to help her clear her head.

…

Rachel stared at the door long after Shelby had closed it. Why hadn't her mother kissed her good night? She had given her a good night kiss every night since they had moved in. Was it because Quinn was here? She hadn't given Quinn a good night kiss either, though. Had she wanted to? Rachel paused, remembering how Shelby had looked between the both of them. Maybe she had wanted to kiss her new daughter good night but had been concerned for what Rachel might think. Maybe…

"So, what's your mom like?" Quinn asked, breaking Rachel out of her thoughts.

Rachel turned to face Quinn. "She's nice," Rachel replied distractedly. "You'll like her."

_That doesn't say much_, thought Quinn. "How's she like compared to your fathers?"

Rachel focused her attention and thought for a moment. How was Shelby like compared to her fathers? Where should she even begin? They were worlds apart, and one need only look at her right now to figure out how different they were.

What would she be doing now if she was still at her fathers' house? She would have gone for her dance recital yesterday, and probably screwed it up too. Then, right now, she would probably be already practising for her next performance. Unless she was still too hurt from being punished for her poor performance at the recital to be up and about dancing, in which case, she would be shifting about the bed, trying and failing to find a least painful position to sleep in. Knowing she would need to fall asleep soon, because one day was the most time her fathers ever allowed her to waste recovering, and tomorrow morning, she would be back on the elliptical running at 6am sharp. Or earlier, if she had practice down at the basement.

She sighed. But despite how exhausted she would be, or how much pain she would be in, she would have the comfort of knowing that she was following her familiar routine, working towards her next recital, next competition, next exam – knowing she was working towards these 'next's because she would still be around when these 'next's occurred.

Unlike now, when despite her repeated misbehaviour and rudeness and clashes with Quinn, she had not yet been punished for any of it. Yet, although her body was

so comfortable, well-rested, well-fed and pain-free, her mind was a complete mess, not knowing when Shelby would have enough of her and give her the boot. Or if Shelby had already decided to kick her out and was just waiting on Sharon to find her a new foster home…

There was no way she could tell Quinn any of these, though, so she settled for a simple "She's different."

Quinn frowned. 'Different' how? Knowing how literal Rachel often could be, did she mean 'different' as in 'one female and not two males, therefore different'?. Or 'different' as in 'so scary she has already scared shitless _both_ Santana Lopez and Rachel Berry', two of her most confident classmates?

Perhaps a more direct question would work better. "Why did you lie to her?"

"Pardon?"

"I scared you off the bed, you didn't just fall down on you own," Quinn pointed out. "And even after you had tumbled off, I was yelling at you and definitely not trying to help you up."

"Please don't tell her that I lied," Rachel interrupted.

"I won't tell her, I'm not an imbecile. But seriously, though, _why_ did you lie?"

Rachel shrugged. "Like I said earlier, I just want her to think that we get along. That we can live together. Which we can, right?"

"I suppose." _It's not like I really have anywhere else I can live at anyway._ "Whatever, good night." Quinn paused. "Rachel," she added.

Rachel smiled. It was still kind of odd to hear Quinn call her by name, but at the same time, she couldn't deny it was quite nice too. Maybe they really could eventually become friends. "Good night, Quinn."

…

Shelby smiled when she made it into the kitchen without hearing any more commotion coming from Rachel's room. She really had to look for a contractor to do her office's soundproofing soon, prepare her office and unpack everything so that the guest room could be furnished and prepared for Quinn. Hopefully, the two girls wouldn't clash so often if they had their own separate rooms. Despite the girls' denials, it was obvious there was bad blood between the two girls, and she would need to separate them sometime soon.

But now, late at night as it was, was not a time for that. Both girls were asleep, or probably would be asleep soon, and there was no more work that she could do now. She finally had some time to herself to think in relative peace and quiet. With that glass of wine she had promised herself if she got through the day without losing her temper.

Shelby reached for a glass but stopped when she suddenly remembered something. Earlier, before she left the hospital, she had asked Sharon how the Fabrays' case was going. She didn't know if she would even stick around for long enough as to be involved in Quinn's court case, but she had thought she should find out any major developments because they might affect Quinn's behaviour or emotional state. Even if the Fabrays' were safely locked up in a jail somewhere, unlike the Berries who were still roaming free.

Sharon had informed her that after the Fabrays had been denied bail, they had not been much trouble in police custody, although Judy was beginning to show symptoms of alcohol withdrawal. She remembered that the reports had also mentioned that Judy had been drunk when she was arrested. Shelby sighed. Was it the wisest idea, then, to drink tonight? This was Quinn's first night in her home. What if Quinn needed her tonight but was reminded of Judy because she had alcohol on her breath?

She withdrew her hand from the glass and put away the bottle regretfully. She could most certainly have used a glass of wine tonight but not if the consequence was traumatizing one of her young charges. She was almost thankful she had done that, because as she replaced the bottle, something else on the shelf caught her eye. The name card of one 'Maribel Lopez'. She sighed, the tense, confusing environment surrounding the two girls made picking Quinn up from the hospital feel like it had at least been a week ago, not just a few hours.

"_Here's my name card."_

" '_Maribel Lopez', real estate agent," Shelby read. "Cool, thanks."_

"_Actually, I'm no longer practising as a real estate agent. I stopped a few years back but still had a stack of these, un-used. My cellphone number hasn't changed since then, so these cards are still a pretty convenient thing to give away, although I haven't given away that many… One hardly ever meets anyone new when living in a small town like this." Maribel paused, laughing a little at herself. "I'm rambling and probably should stop. I hope I'm not over-stepping here, but please, just call me if you need any help. With anything."_

Shelby remembered thanking her but thinking that she probably wouldn't need much help. She had coached entire show choirs of twenty ego-centric, dramatic teenagers before, and she remembered thinking – overly simplistically, hopefully and rather foolishly, that surely two girls couldn't be that hard. Rachel had been ever so obedient and eager to please this past week before Quinn's arrival, and at the hospital, Quinn had at worst, just seemed sullen and friendly.

Now, barely, a few hours later, she was thinking of calling up a complete stranger and asking for her help. At 10.30pm at night. While in New York, most including herself would consider the night to still be young, here it seemed like most lights in the neighbourhood went out way before ten. Would Maribel still be awake and willing to entertain her call?

That aside, she really was the best person to get help from. Or at least, some information. After all, Maribel was familiar enough with Quinn that Quinn called her "Aunt", so surely Maribel could shed some light on Quinn's school life. She had read through Quinn's school records but they hadn't revealed much. In fact, if you replaced "Glee club" with "Cheerleading team", it was almost identical to Rachel's. Excellent grades, captain of the Cheerios, never broken a school rule before. Which should have been good news for her, but after what she had found out about how Rachel was so unpopular to the point of being constantly bullied, and having slushies thrown in her face, she was wary to assume that a perfect school record equalled a perfect school life.

She fingered Maribel's name card in her hand, recalling that the woman also had a daughter, Santana, who was by all accounts, good friends with Quinn. Santana who was also in the same grade as both Rachel and Quinn. While Quinn had only moved to Lima in 7th grade, Santana and Rachel had probably been in the same classes since way before that. Maybe Maribel had heard something about Rachel as well? It couldn't hurt to ask.

She sighed. She hated to ask for help but she could also recognise when she needed to, and this was one such situation. She was way out of her depth here. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her cellphone and dialled, hoping she wasn't waking Maribel from her sleep.

…

Quinn had fallen asleep quite easily but Rachel found that she couldn't. It was too early, and she was too emotionally agitated to attain the relaxed state required for one to fall asleep.

Honestly, now that she was all healed and rested up, she missed the many activities that had previously filled up her days. In these past two weeks of living with her mom, she had been so terribly unproductive. She had barely done any household chores, especially after she had gotten into trouble for mopping the floor that day. She had not attended any classes, the text messages her teachers had sent her wishing her "all the best for your future endeavours" letting her know that her fathers had cancelled all her classes. She hadn't even practised any new songs or made any MySpace videos, both of which were activities she would spend time doing whenever she had any to spare.

Moreover, whatever "injuries" she had had when she first met her mom were all but disappearing, and she couldn't remember a time when she was so well-fed, well-rested _and_ pain free. She didn't need to eat so much or sleep so much. She had all this pent-up energy that she simply didn't know what to do with it. She couldn't even get up and do chores, because her mother had strictly forbidden that, at least until Thursday. Or study, because, that would disturb Quinn's sleep. And of course, it didn't help that sleep often brought with it stupid nightmares, nightmares she would gladly avoid as far as possible. They had a strange tendency to reflect her worst fears, and while in the day, she could push them out of her head if she tried hard enough, there was no avoiding them when she encountered them in dreamland.

She still needed to sleep, though, she realised as she flipped over onto her stomach. It used to be the most comfortable position to sleep in given how much more frequently she was punished on her back than on her front, but she found that even with her back healing well, she had grown much more used to sleeping on her front. Not that it matter anyway, sleep was sleep, right? As long as the nightmares kept away tonight…

…

"Rachel? I think I remember her. Rachel Berry, right? The girls call her "the Glee club diva", and say that she's their best singer. And she's got two gay dads, which I'm guessing is what she's more famous for. Oh, I do recall something else… they sometimes mention that she talks a lot and has a strange dress sense. But that's really about all I know. I get the feeling they aren't really friends. Why, is there something the matter between Rachel and Quinn?"

"Yes, I'm guessing there is."

"Oh. I suppose it's a good thing Quinn will be on medical leave from school for the next few days…?"

"That doesn't actually help much, actually, because Rachel is my daughter."

Maribel made a strange choking sound that resembled an embarrassed laughter. "The daughter you were recently re-united with? Oh dear, I'm sorry I said that about her talking and her fashion sense… I mean…"

Shelby smiled. "Don't worry about it. I must say I quite agree about her clothes being rather… unconventional, but hey, kids will wear what they want to. As long as those clothes aren't too inappropriate, I guess I can live with it. Besides, there are more pressing issues for me to attend to."

"Ah, yes, the 'something' that's going on between Rachel and Quinn?"

"It's really not all that much, actually. They just don't get along and seem to be at each other's throats every time I turn my back."

"Any fighting?"

"Nothing physical, thank goodness," Shelby said, trying to point out of her mind, the image of Rachel lying on the floor. It was _nothing_, she told herself. "No real fights, just a lot of squabbling and some name-calling."

"Kids do that, Shelby. It's normal. In fact, I believe Santana and Quinn used to quarrel a lot too, right about the time when Quinn moved in and Santana believed that Quinn was going to steal her popularity. In fact, you should be thankful nothing physical has occurred, since those two girls actually came to blows once… that was the only time I've known Quinn to get physical with someone but my Santana seems to have an affinity for getting into fights, it was even worse when she was younger… Anyway, they eventually became friends and agreed to share the popularity."

"I see. So Quinn's a popular student, then?"

"I suppose you could say that. The cheerleaders are the most popular students at school, and she is the head cheerleader. Or was."

"Was?"

"She can't compete because she's pregnant, so she's off the team for at least a year. Santana is actually standing in as the Captain now, but Quinn seems to be pretty okay with that. It's a pity too, since Quinn is really good at cheerleading. She works really hard at it, which I'm guessing is why she won the captain's title despite being only a sophomore."

"Oh," was all Shelby could say, while feeling really out of depth and ignorant. Calling Maribel had definitely been the right idea to learn more about Quinn.

"So if the cheerleaders are the most popular students, what about the Glee clubbers?"

"They aren't all that popular… Actually, to be blunt, I think they might be one of the most unpopular groups in school. Although Quinn, Santana and Brittany do get away with it because they're also Cheerios. I'm not so sure about Rachel."

"I see," Shelby replied. She could definitely attest to Rachel's unpopularity, especially given the slushied clothing that she had stumbled upon that first night they had come home. It was at least becoming clearer to her that Rachel and Quinn's conflict might simply be a clash between two girls from different popularity statuses. Hopefully, that was all there was to it, and she could make it clear to them that whatever the dictates of the school's social hierarchy, they were to bring none of that home. That in her home, the two girls were equals.

"Thanks a lot, you've been a great help."

"Anytime. I did ask you to call if you needed help with anything."

"Actually, there's this one other thing that you could help me with…"

…

Rachel sat up in her bed. Stupid, stupid nightmare, she swore under her breath. Why couldn't she just have one night in which she could sleep soundly without the disturbance of bad dreams? She hadn't slept through the night ever since she had been removed from her fathers' care, and by now, she was pretty certain that this was more than just not being used to a different bed or different house.

Maybe this was her punishment for all the trouble she had caused her fathers.

She sighed. Normally, she would just switch on her bedside lamp and read for awhile until she was tired enough to go back to sleep, but this time, there was someone else in her bed and she couldn't in good conscience wake Quinn up as well just because she had just had a stupid nightmare. Besides, given the nature of that particular dream she'd just had, she would really much rather Quinn be sleeping now than awake.

What else could she do?

She could go down to the kitchen to get a drink of water. She used to like to drink water when she was sad. It helped somehow, she wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was the mundane act of drinking water – cool, cleansing water, that helped clear her mind and helped her to make sense of complicated matters.

And as an added benefit, she could switch on the light in the kitchen without disturbing anyone. Nice bright lights to chase away the stupid demons that haunted her dark nightmares.

…

"I was throwing away a tissue, I wasn't stealing any food!" Rachel defended, as the kitchen light flickered on, startling her.

Quinn stared strangely at Rachel's ridiculous words, accompanied by the weird way she was now pressed against the wall. The rubbish bin which Rachel was standing next to, was nowhere near the kitchen cupboards or the refrigerator, so what would Rachel have been stealing anyway?

"Sorry," Rachel muttered, when she realized the intruder was Quinn, not her parents. Quinn was giving her weird eyes too, probably at her earlier statement. Her face coloured in embarrassment, she hadn't meant for Quinn hear that.

Quinn took a step back, as though to exit the kitchen to fetch Shelby and Rachel hurried to stopped her. "Don't get my mom! Please don't tell her what I said, it'll just upset her. I was just surprised, that's all. Why are you in the kitchen anyway?"

"I woke up and couldn't find you, so I went looking." She left out the part where she was afraid Shelby had taken Rachel from the room to do something with her – she really didn't want to think about what that something might have been. However, she hadn't quite dared to look into Shelby's room, and had frozen momentarily outside the silent master bedroom, debating with herself, before she heard sounds coming from downstairs, and hesitantly proceeded to investigate them. "Why are _you_ in the kitchen?"

"I came here for a drink of water and accidentally spilled some water in the dark, so I was just wiping it away. I didn't do anything else," she hurriedly assured Quinn, trying not to think about the reason she had been getting a drink of water in the first place. The stupid nightmare she'd had – her mother getting angry at her for fighting with Quinn, and throwing her out of the house into the front yard, followed by subsequent hours banging on the door and calling out for her mother or for Quinn to please open the door and let her in, calls that had fallen on deaf ears… Or the one where Quinn had been some kind of evil stepsister, taunting her while… No, she wasn't going to think about them at all. Hadn't that been the reason she wanted to come down here in the first place, to stop thinking about those stupid nightmares?

Quinn gave her another strange look and shrugged. Whatever was going on in Rachel's head was none of her business. As long as Shelby wasn't doing anything to Rachel, she could pass off Rachel's strange behaviour as just another of Rachel Berry's weird little quirks. "Oh, okay. Are you coming back to bed?"

Rachel blinked back the memory and focussed on Quinn's words. "Yes, I'll just wash this cup and return it, then I'll go back upstairs with you."

Quinn leaned back against the wall and watched as Rachel made short work of washing the cup and putting it away. Much as she told herself that Rachel's weird behaviour was none of her business, she couldn't deny that it did intrigue her. This wasn't the normal Rachel Berry type of weirdness, it was something else altogether. Rachel had always been an eager beaver goody-two-shoes in school but here with her mom, she was obedient almost to the point of seeming afraid of Shelby. Her normal loud-mouthed and talkative self showed itself a couple of times when she was arguing with Quinn, but in the presence of her mother, she barely said a handful of words and every few seconds, she would glance nervously at her mother, as though checking Shelby's mood to see if her behaviour was acceptable.

Not unlike the way Quinn had used to behave around her fa-… Russell. Around Russell.

Rachel was obviously afraid of her mother, that much was certain. But why? Thus far, Shelby had seemed rather harmless. She did lecture and scold, but then again, she had had every right to, seeing as she had been quarrelling with Rachel at the dinner table. Sure, she had a rather scary aura about her when she was angry which was probably what had made such an impression on Santana as well, but she hadn't shown even the slightest tendency to be violent, and her scoldings had been limited to their misbehaviour, unlike Russell who would have attacked her personality and character. Overall, pretty harmless.

She wondered if she should have used Rachel's obvious fear of her mother and her request for her to not tell Shelby what she said to exchange for some answers. Like for instance, why she would be "stealing" food in the middle of the night in her own house.

Thinking of blackmailing Rachel in her own home was kind of odd, but then again, it was also very odd how Rachel was being so deferent to her. She was unusually quiet, displaying none of that annoying superiority that Quinn was so used to seeing in Glee club, especially when she was performing one of her many solos. Nor did she carry herself with the same confidence and ease at home as she did in school.

Even when she was HBIC in school and Rachel was a nobody, she had had more guts than most of the kids she bullied, and had never had any problems standing up to her, so what was wrong with her now? Especially now that Quinn was merely a foster child living in Rachel's home, under the custody of Rachel's mother, surely Rachel, no matter how socially tone-deaf she was, ought to realise that she was in a far more superior position here? That this was her opportunity for revenge, that she could bully and torture Quinn, the foster kid, and Quinn probably wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

Odd. Just like how quickly Rachel forgave her, she supposed.

Whatever. Why was she contemplating the mystery that was Rachel Berry? The girl was none of her business, and she just ought to be thankful that the diva was leaving her alone and not paying her back for the previous bullying. Otherwise, she could act as weird as she wanted for all Quinn cared, it was her own home, after all. And whatever else was going on between Rachel and her mother was their own damn business as well. Not hers.


	43. Cause that's all I've ever known, Part 1

ajunebuga - Thanks! Yep, it was hard for her, but I think it's easier to seek help when it's for the sake of someone else. She loves Rachel and cares about Quinn and if her lack of knowledge causes her to be unable to help them, then I think a good mother would set aside her pride and fear of rejection and ask for help. Anyway, I think of Maribel as being kindly, motherly and not at all scary (:

olacindy - Yay! Glad you liked them (:

NZgleek91 - Haha, thanks, I'm glad you're still around despite the long wait (:

CarmellaD'Winter - Haha, it was an awkward and tense atmosphere for all three of them, which I imagine was what drove Shelby to give Maribel a call. The fighting wasn't even all that bad, but it's more that there's obviously something both girls are hiding from her that would explain their strange dynamic. She felt out of the loop and clueless, and as the mother, she feels it's her duty to make things more comfortable and get them all to open up. They will all start talking soon enough (: Soon enough in terms of the story, which means the next couple of days for Rachel, Quinn and Shelby but it might be a few chapters (equals a few weeks? a month?) for my readers, given how slow I write. And to answer your question, Shelby will be doing all of those things at different times and to varying extents with each girl. They're all in my plans, don't worry (:

lemon-rind - Yup, I'm beginning to realize that myself, especially with regard to changing perspectives. Now that all three main characters are together, when I write their scenes, I'm in all three of their heads simultaneously but it's hard to write that in and keep switching between all three perspectives. I'll try my best to iron it out and make it less jarring. You're right about Quinn, that she doesn't really care about Rachel altruistically but I hope that doesn't surprise you. She doesn't want to get to know the girl she has tormented for years (who wants that?), she doesn't want to form attachments to a home she might not even remain in for a long time, and honestly, at this point in her life, she really just wants to get through each day and for her, self-preservation is the way she survives. Close her eyes and look away when bad things happen. Bully others so they know her power/status and leave her alone.

With regards to your answer to my question, thank you for sharing so much with me. With Shelby, it's probably more similar to what you shared about your father. Shelby is a total newbie at being a mother, and she has two very difficult to handle teenagers to look after. Maribel is experienced at being a mother and familiar with Quinn, so there's a lot Shelby can learn from her. However, what Shelby will eventually share with Maribel is very personal details about Rachel's life, which is why I wonder if I should make it such that Rachel just never finds out. What do you think?

BellaDora Soulmates – Wow, what a response, I hope you didn't hurt yourself. Sorry for the long wait, heh.

ekcandyapple - Yep (:

Shana - Haha, that really wasn't on purpose. Yes, I will tell her story one day. I already know what it is, but I just don't know when is the right time/place to tell it. In the mean time, I'm honoured by your curiosity (:

Renata - Both Russell and Judy do not have any siblings. Maribel finding out about the bullying is indeed in my plans, although not quite in the way you suggested, and I hope when it gets published, the writing is to your satisfaction. Thanks for all your suggestins and predictions, it always makes me happy to see how involved in my story you are as well (:

Alese222 - Haha, it was meant to be awkward. I didn't think two girls who have butted heads as much as Quinn and Rachel would find it so easy to lie down and sleep on the same bed at night, even if they have some kind of a truce going on. As for what you want, it hasn't quite happened yet in this chapter, but hang in there, something similar is coming up!

ArmadilloPretzels - Thanks (:

JWilson18 - Haha, I liked that comparison! I think Quinn is the more socially attuned one of the two girls, hence the way I wrote it. I don't think Quinn will be trusting Shelby right off the bat either.

shiniso - Haha, yes, Shelby needs at least one adult friend. Who isn't as traumatized and frightened as those two girls are, whom she doesn't need to be strong and in control in front of. I really like Maribel for that role (: As for Rachel, she will eventually start talking... She's Rachel Berry, she can't stay silent for too long, haha. I think it just seems long to you guys because my chapters are so slow, heh. With regards to Quinn, she is deliberately a close book, so my best hint for you would be that what is absent in her thoughts world is just as significant as what is present in Rachel's long and windy thoughts. I get that you want more, but I hope that hint makes sense to you. As from day 1 of this fic, Quinn and Rachel are very different people despite their somewhat similar circumstances and even now, after they are "saved", they'll heal and deal with it in different ways.

GreenLemons - Haha, yes. I suppose it must be frustrating for Shelby to want to talk but only be faced with two tight-lipped girls. What Shelby was going to ask Maribel wasn't all that important, but sure, you'll find out soon.

Anon - Haha, oh the cross-over fantasies. Coming back to reality, yes, Quinn and Rachel will both be going to therapy, although how much they say in therapy would be a different matter altogether. You're quite right in your analysis of how different Rachel and Quinn are.

Guest – Rachel and Santana will have some bonding eventually but it'll be a rather long and tumultuous wait, I think.

Guest – Find out about Rachel's childhood? Soon.

SA03 – Haha, I think the show has already established that Rachel can't keep a secret to save her life. Quinn's odd reaction was what I was aiming for.

monprincess – Your feeling is pretty accurate :P

Guest – Thank you for your criticism, I'm sorry you think that way. You're partially right, I'm trying to incorporate their season 1 personalities but changed to adjust for if they'd had the terrible childhoods I've given them. Which is what alternate universe (AU) means. It's not as AU as making them all Romans or making Rachel, Santana and Puck all have the same mother (I do love "Open wounds", by the way) but more a Fringe kind of AU where certain events and factors have changed but the people are still essentially and basically the same, although they behave differently due to the changed circumstances. That also means I've imagined these changes into these characters, and you're definitely allowed to disagree with what I've imagined.

Rini – Haha, I completely understand how you find Rachel's current behaviour and mistaken ideas annoying because I find it annoying too. I only hope that the pay-off at the end of this little storyline is worth it. As for Quinn, she isn't more worried because she's self-centred and also preoccupied with her own situation? There is also more about her emotions in this chapter, which I felt was a better place for it, rather than "yesterday" (in story terms) when she was still kind of in shock over who her new foster sister is and trying to just deal with that.

KC1991 - Thanks (: Yup, they will! However, given how they are right now, it'll probably take a while to get them to that point :P

**A/N. Yay! Another chapter! I hope I won't make you guys wait 3.5 weeks for a chapter again. Special thanks goes out to my beta, mtlover, and to all my loyal readers who stayed with this story during the wait and reviewed the last chapter. Cheers!**

Chapter 41. ...'Cause that's all I've ever known, Part 1

"Mom, should I wake Quinn up? She'll be late for school."

"Quinn is not going to school today, Rachel, so there's no need to wake her up. Let her sleep in a little while longer."

"Oh. I'll walk to school on my own then?"

"No, I'm still driving you to school," Shelby told her firmly. "When you're ready, I'll drive you there then return here quickly, hopefully before Quinn wakes up. I'll also leave a note just in case she wakes up and finds the house empty. She had a difficult day yesterday, going through the whole transition of moving into our house, so let's just allow her to sleep in as much as possible, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel agreed. She thought for a moment. "Is she sick? Is it her infection?"

Shelby looked at Rachel, surprised. "How did you know about her infection?" She tried to think back to the hectic day they'd all had yesterday. She hadn't let slip about Quinn's chlamydia infection, had she? Her few interactions with the blonde had taught her that Quinn was an intensely private person, and she was pretty certain she would not want Rachel to find out about such sensitive information about her, especially when it would beg the question of _who_ had given her the infection.

"She was taking Augmentin last night. That's an antibiotic, the same one as the one I had to take. Did she have infected welts and cuts like I did? Is that why she's taking antibiotics like I had to?" It did make sense. Quinn seemed quite alright health-wise, she didn't appear to be suffering from any kind of really serious infection.

Then again, Rachel also knew that she had had infected cuts the past but had managed to hide it from everyone at school. And this wasn't the first time she'd had cuts that got infected either. Was that what had happened to Quinn too? Sharon had told her mother that Quinn had suffered from "physical abuse", and Quinn had also just admitted to her last night that her father had "hurt" her, which was why she was currently in foster care… Had Quinn's father punished Quinn like Dad had punished her? Hard enough to cut her skin and make her bleed and give her an infection?

"Let's not pry into her personal matters, alright? She might not want people to know about her personal medical conditions, so let's respect her privacy and not ask her or talk about it. Don't worry about it, I'll look after her well, and maybe she'll tell you when she's ready to." _Just like maybe one day, you'll talk to her about your fathers ' treatment of you too. I have a feeling you two might do more good for each other than you think._

Rachel nodded. "Yes, Mom. You'll look after her well, like you looked after me, right? I'm all healed now."

"Yes," Shelby smiled at Rachel's words. "Yes, I will. What about you? How are you coping so far, what with sharing a room with Quinn and all."

"We're getting along."

"You didn't seem like you were quite getting along yesterday," Shelby felt the need to point out. She couldn't quite understand why Rachel was being so tight-lipped and reluctant to say anything about her relationship with Quinn, especially if this was just a simple matter of being in different clichés or social statuses at school. Rachel had been talking just fine before Quinn came along, and had even already told Shelby about being unpopular at school and getting slushies thrown in her face. Shelby couldn't help but wonder if accepting Quinn into her home, even if it was just temporary, had caused this sudden change in Rachel's behaviour, and if it had, whether it still had been the right thing to do.

"But we're trying. And we will, I promise. We can do it."

"What about last night? Did you really just fall off the bed?"

"Yes. I was just moving over to the right side of the bed, so that I could, you know, give Quinn her personal space, because she's such a private person like you said, and I moved too far to my side of the bed, so I fell. That was all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You fell on your back and on your bum, right? Did you hurt yourself?"

Rachel shook her head. "No. I didn't hurt myself. Everything is healing very well and I checked again this morning. No opened cuts or burst blisters or anything like that. I'm fine, really."

Shelby nodded. "Alright then. I'm glad you're both trying to get along, and I suppose I should be glad that you're not tattling on each other. I have to ask, though. Is there anything at all, about the history between the both of you that I need to know about?"

Rachel shook her head quickly. "There's nothing. I mean, we've shared many of our classes for since 7th grade, and she and her boyfriend Finn joined the Glee club shortly after I did, but that's about it. We haven't really been friends, but what's past is past and I think what's more important is that we're now going to work harder to get along and live together."

Shelby nodded. "That's good to know. Alright, now get yourself ready for school and I'll drive you over, okay?"

She caught the look Rachel gave her that told her that her daughter was going to start arguing with her and she shook her head. "No, I'm driving you to school and that's final. I'm not going to let you walk over on your own when driving you there won't take me more than five minutes. Now, go get ready quickly, please."

Rachel nodded.

_See? Mom is still driving you to school. And Quinn is spending time alone at home with Mom because she's not feeling well, not because Mom likes her better than you. When _you_ got discharged from the hospital, Mom offered to let you skip a few days of school and spend some alone time with her too, but you refused to, remember?_

_Maybe that's why her mom preferred Quinn to her? Because Quinn was obedient and listened to her mom when she was told to skip school and rest at home? _

Rachel sighed and shook her head slightly to dislodge the tangle of thoughts inside. Thinking hurt too much. Better just get ready for school quickly like Mom had instructed her to.

...

Quinn sat up in her bed with a start, awoken once again by yet another stupid nightmare. "Nightmare" sounded better than "memory", she had decided. At least she could pretend that a nightmare wasn't real.

The bed she had awoken in was neither her own bed nor the hospital's, and it took her awhile to orientate herself and figure out that she was in Rachel's house, in Rachel's bed. Well, technically, it was Shelby's house but it wasn't like she knew Shelby all that well. She was still just a mystery boogey woman who had appeared in her hospital room one night and scared the bejesus out of one rude nurse. Whereas Rachel was... what the hell was Rachel now anyway?

Acquaintance and friend, she had said yesterday, but she wasn't sure those words covered their relationship adequately. They were a rather long way from being actual proper friends, but they were far from mere acquaintances either. Still, she couldn't deny that besides her two best friends Santana and Brittany, and her boyfriend Finn, Rachel was probably the other person she had the most interactions with, even more so than her fellow Cheerios. Antagonistic interactions filled with animosity that mainly comprised of Quinn's constant bullying, Rachel's spirited retaliations and their never-ending war of words. Not exactly pleasant interactions but interactions nonetheless. She couldn't really explain what her obsession with Rachel was but besides Rachel's absolute refusal to be cowed by her, it probably also had something to do with her fathers' near obsession with the Berry men and therefore their daughter Rachel Berry as well.

Quinn wondered absent-mindedly if she might have become actual friends with Rachel had Russell not hated Rachel's fathers so much. Probably not, she decided. Her father's opinions aside, Rachel's odd clothes, severe lack of social skills and misfortune of being the captain of McKinley's most unpopular club combined would still have made her one of the most unpopular girls in school. She probably wouldn't be slushied that many times since most of her slushies were courtesy of Quinn, but they would still have existed on completely opposite ends of the popularity spectrum. In fact, they probably wouldn't have spoken to each other much at all, which would probably have been better for Rachel.

Well, Russell Fabray was pretty much out of the picture now, and Quinn could not blame him forever for her enmity of Rachel. They had been in the same Glee club for the past few months as well, and given that Quinn was somewhat on speaking terms with the other equally unpopular girls such as Mercedes and Tina, she supposed she owed Rachel that level of friendliness at least.

Or more, considering they had gone from being mere teammates / classmates to being roommates now, albeit temporarily. In fact, Rachel had been strangely nice to her since she had set foot in this house, even despite her rather rude protests initially. To be honest, that had been more of an olive branch that Quinn had ever hoped for. When she had seen that Shelby's daughter was none other than The Rachel Berry, she had been so certain Rachel would now have her revenge and she had been so determined to angrily rebut her and refuse to be cowed. Now, however, Rachel was clearly choosing to be nice – as nice as she could manage when it came to Quinn anyway. The ball was in Quinn's court and she promised herself that she would try her best to be more civil with the tiny diva.

She considered the past 24 hours thoughtfully. Shelby was nice enough, and apart from triggering some kind of strange nervous reaction in Rachel, she seemed to be quite harmless so far. She probably had over-exaggerated Rachel's nervousness due to her own fear, and Rachel's nervousness was probably more due to Quinn's unwelcome presence than that of her own mother. She could actually almost see herself living here for the longer term, and she didn't want to lose this home too easily.

Wait, _home_? The houses you stay in aren't ever going to be your home, Q, and you would do well to remember that. And that's another important reason you've got to learn to be more deferent to their occupants too, not just because Rachel is being nice to you. Shelby already got pretty impatient with you last night, and even if she let you off with a warning on account of it being your first day here, you can't use that excuse anymore from today onwards. Get your act together! And for God's sake, try and be nicer to Rachel. Little Miss Broadway is obviously the most important person to Shelby, and even if Rachel is weird enough to not want to tell your past sins to her, you're going to get into serious trouble if you hurt Rachel anymore _now_, in her own home.

She smiled. It was a thought so foreign to her that it was almost unbelievable. At least she had stopped calling her "Berry". She had a feeling the Berry men weren't Shelby's favorite people in the world either, which was something she would also have to look out for as well, try and find out why.

She stared down at her hands out of pure habit but the sight of the bandages made her cringe, so she hid them back under the blankets. Rachel had been staring at those bandages a lot too, but hadn't asked about them yet. It was surprising, given how annoyingly intrusive and talkative the girl was, but given how Quinn had responded to a simple almost considerate question about Russell, she supposed she wasn't surprised that even Rachel managed to take the hint that Quinn's family situation was not a topic she was willing to discuss.

She lay in bed and tried to go back to sleep. It was already quite late in the morning, and she knew Rachel had already left for school. She didn't know where Shelby was but she didn't particularly care either. If Shelby was going to allow her to sleep in, she was going to take full advantage of it. And she was _not_ going to get worried over absolutely nothing. However freaky Santana claimed she was, Shelby did not strike her as someone perverse like her father who was unsafe to be left alone with, and she sincerely hoped her instincts were right about that. Yell at her, maybe, especially if she hurt Rachel, but she wouldn't do _that_.

Anyway, the door was open, she would be able to see Shelby approach, and likewise, Shelby could come up here and call her down if she wanted to. If she was worried about suicidal attempts like Dr Lopez had initially been worried about, well no one in their right mind would try to off themselves with the door open. No one who wanted to succeed anyway. Oh God, what was she thinking about? She would never do that, at least not right now. She might hate her life enough to wish for a quicker end but she wouldn't do it now, not while she was pregnant. She wasn't callous or self-hating enough to kill herself and take an innocent baby with her.

For the first time since _it_ happened, she was being left alone. Alone was good, it was safe. She was tired of people waltzing in and out of her personal space, attacking with a barrage of questions. The Lopezes were really nice people, and they were probably the only source of light and joy in her life - her baby was another, but he/she also brought with him/her a whole truckload of questions and troubles... Much as her baby kept invading her thoughts now that she had a semi-safe place to bring him up in, she didn't really want to think about that now. She just wanted to sit here in the silence and not think about anything, no dark thoughts of suicide or troubled thoughts about how she would handle raising a baby on her own. She shook her head slightly, determined to keep all other troubling and unwanted thoughts at bay. She wanted to simply be in this moment, nothing more. And maybe fall back into a hopefully dreamless sleep...

...

"How are you feeling?" Shelby asked as she brought out the breakfast foods from the kitchen.

Quinn shrugged. "I'm fine."

"Did you sleep well last night?"

Quinn shrugged again. "It was okay." She quietly wondered if Shelby really expected her to give honest answers to those questions, to start baring her soul and sharing about how horrible the nightmares-that-were-really-memories were, how they made peaceful, dreamless sleep impossible, how awkward she felt accepting kindness from her once-nemesis Rachel, how apprehensive she was that Shelby would find out about her bullying of Rachel anyway, how Shelby might react to that discovery, and at the back of her mind, how Russell and Judy were doing and whether they were going to do anything to get back at her for sending them to jail... She didn't even allow herself to think about those things very much, there was no way she was going to open up to Shelby about them.

Silence resumed for a few more minutes before Quinn spoke up again.

"Sharon said I could go to my house and get my things today. The police are done with the evidence and photographs."

"Do you want me to get your things for you? I mean, you probably don't want to be reminded of what happened last Friday..."

"Don't pretend you know anything about last Friday. You don't know _anything_." _God, calm the hell down, Q_, she reminded herself. "It's my house and it's my crap, I'll get them on my own. You don't need to do anything for me, you aren't my real mother anyway."

"I'm not," Shelby agreed calmly, determined to not let Quinn get to her, "but there's no need to be rude," she added in a warning tone. Quinn had to know that as her foster parent, she had been given access to her files at CPS but Shelby understood that for now, it was probably still too raw to bring it up so soon after it had happened.

Quinn tensed and lowered her voice but she refused to back down. "I want to get my things today and never have to go back there ever again," she stated flatly. It wasn't a question, merely a statement of fact.

Shelby looked at Quinn and sighed. Somehow, she managed to look both defiant and fearful at the same time. "Okay," she decided. "I'll call Sharon and arrange it."

Quinn nodded. "Thanks," she mumbled, appreciating that Shelby could have been a lot angrier about her outburst. She really did need to learn to reign in her runaway mouth.

"Another thing: I noticed you have two parking spaces here but you only have one car, and Rachel is too young to get her license. I have a car - my own, under my own name, not his. Can I keep it? It'll save you the trouble of having to drive me around to school or to my appointments or whatever. I'll pay for all my car-related expenses too, you wouldn't have to concern yourself with that."

Shelby frowned. "Cars are expensive to upkeep."

"I know, but I can handle it," Quinn stated. She had more than enough of her own money to pay for all her own expenses for the next two years if need be, but Shelby did not need to know about her own money stash. She didn't like to think about it anyway - in her books, it was blood money, given to buy her silence on the various unsavory activities that took place in her house, but money was money and it had its uses. Like allowing her to not have to be overly dependent on the charity of others.

"How? Do you have a job?"

Quinn shrugged. "No, but I have the means to take care of my own expenditure. I don't need your money"

That hadn't really answered anything, Shelby thought, and was clearly meant as a more polite way of saying 'Mind your own business'.

"Alright. Tell you what, you can keep your car here, you can pay for gas just so I can be sure you'll be careful with your mileage and I'll pay for everything else. I don't think I quite trust teenagers to be diligent with things like vehicle insurance and maintenance that most people your age seem to deem an unnecessary expense. In return, you can help me drive Rachel to school every morning and home as well, if you two happen to end school at the same time. I can drive her around quite easily now, but when I start getting students, I might not be able to do so if the timing isn't right and I have students over then."

"Sure," Quinn agreed easily. She was well aware that two weeks ago, she would have been appalled to have been seen even _talking_ to Rachel, but things had changed so much that now, having to drive her around was a small price to pay to able to keep this one bit of independence. Even if it was a rather unwelcome invasion of her privacy - in the past, driving had been a time of freedom for her. Alone in her car, she did not have to keep up appearances for anyone, and driving herself around gave her at least the illusion that she was in control of her own destiny.

"Great. Thank you, Quinn. I know you didn't quite like the idea of living with Rachel at first but I'm glad to see you're warming up to the idea. I can see you're trying your best to be nicer to her and use more polite language as well. Thank you."

Quinn shrugged. "Whatever." She hoped this wasn't the opening line of another heart to heart. She didn't want to talk about her feelings or whatever, she just wanted to get over getting her things from her house, settle in here, and get prepared for returning to school on Wednesday.

Shelby shook her head but let it go. "Whatever" was a word she really hated because it implied thoughtlessness and an inability to express one's feelings properly but she knew that was a favorite word of most teenagers. She considered it a success that she had managed to get Quinn to reduce her use of swear words. She would tackle impolite teen talk some other day, or maybe she would get lucky and Quinn would pick up on Rachel's more polite manner of speaking. Unlikely, given how Quinn seemed to bring out the most impolite speech from Rachel she had seen to date, but hey, she was allowed to hope.

"Alright, I'll let Sharon know, then we can arrange a time to go to your house to pick up your other things."

...

"...Here we are, at the house of the Fabrays. Hopefully for the last time ever," rolled the running commentary in her head. Coming here, to where it had all happened – she had thought it might be difficult, that she would feel angry, or upset, or frightened but she hadn't been quite prepared for this feeling of… nothingness.

If she really had to pick a word to describe her current emotional state, it would be detachment; it was like she was out of her own body and merely watching herself go through the motions. She had read about it in a magazine once, and they had called it depersonalization, often as a result of having undergone a traumatic experience. She supposed the events that had happened on Friday night probably fell under that category.

Whatever, she just wanted to get everything she needed today and never return here again. If this feeling of detachment made it easier to accomplish that, then all the better for her to get this task over and done with quickly and efficiently. Living as a second class citizen in other people's houses – even Rachel Berry's home – was a bleak prospect to think about, but no matter how bad things got there, she was sure it would still be better than here. She never wanted to come back here.

Quinn got out of the car, walked towards the front door, and froze. There still wasn't that flood of emotions she had anticipated, but it was something else. She had walked through this door countless times before in her life, despite knowing the things that went on inside. Some days she had been fearful, other days she had been angry, but she had never thought about running away. Ever. Until that night. That night which was now flashing like a movie reel in her mind's eye and there was simply no 'off' switch that she could find to turn the damn thing off.

_Quinn froze on the tree. It was so tall, she had never realized how high her bedroom was._ _Absent-mindedly, she supposed the tall ceilings downstairs that her mother often boasted about when they played host to guests probably had something to do with the height she currently found herself at. She was certain this was too high for a fourth floor. Unfortunately, she had been so frantic in her determination to escape, so focused on climbing from her bedroom window to the tree that she hadn't thought ahead to what she would do next. How was she supposed to climb down from this tree? She was a Fabray, and Fabrays simply didn't climb trees!_

_Except you're trying to run away from being a Fabray, aren't you? So do it, find a way to get down from this tree and run away. Or do you want to stay here until your father comes up here and finds you and beats the crap out of you again?_

_She shivered at that thought. No, her father would probably do more than just beat her, and she couldn't go through that again. She had to leave, and she had to leave five minutes ago. And if climbing down a tree was what it took, then she would damn well do it. Even if she hadn't climbed down a tree before, there was a first time for everything, right?_

_I'm not afraid of heights, she reminded herself. I fly off the top of the Cheerios pyramid all the time, flipping and spinning. I can do this._

… _Except that when she jumped off the human pyramids in practice, she always knew there would be spotters waiting underneath to catch her. No one on the squad would dare to drop their Captain, for fear of the full force of Coach Sylvester's fury descending upon them. Here, however, she was all alone._

_Here goes nothing, she whispered as she gripped the tree branch she was on firmly and lowered her legs onto a lower branch. Which worked surprisingly well for awhile until she reached the lowest branch, and realized she was still a good eight feet away from the ground. The only way down was either to jump down or try to climb down the tree trunk. She had seen people do the latter before, but only in movies. She had never tried it herself…_

_Well, until ten minutes ago, she hadn't climbed down tree branches before either, but she had managed quite well so far. She had rock climbed and done bouldering before, so maybe it wouldn't be all that different? Slowly, she inched along the tree branch she was currently on and hugged the tree trunk tightly. Taking a deep breath, she moved one foot off the branch and tried to gain some purchase on the rough tree bark. Unfortunately, when she tried to move her other foot off the branch, the friction between her foot and the tree trunk was simply insufficient to hold her weight and she fell._

_Fortunately, her cheerleading instincts kicked in just in time for her to right herself and ensure that she landed on her feet instead of on her head. Not so fortunately, the surprise of the fall had caused her to land badly, the full force of her weight crashing down on the outer side of her right foot, inverting her right ankle and spraining it._

She flexed her foot lightly now. It was still painful but the sprain was healing well. The doctors had said it was so mild she wouldn't even need a bandage, and had discharged her with just instructions to keep her weight off it as much as possible. There probably wouldn't even be any residual weakness.

That night, however, it had hurt a hell lot worse.

_She bit her lip, fighting back a scream that surely would have sent her parents running out. For a moment, she panicked, thinking she had broken her ankle and was doomed to remain sitting in this spot under the tree until she got caught by her father the next morning. Then the pain faded oh so slightly, and she recalled there hadn't been a crack, so she tried to put some weight on it… It had worsened the pain, but not unbearably so, and driven by adrenaline and the fear of discovery, she managed to push aside the pain, refusing to allow herself to feel it. She pushed herself off the ground and hobbled along, determined to get out, especially when escape was now so close at hand._

_She managed to get right up to the main gate, but mistakenly applied too much weight on her weak ankle and fell again, temporarily paralyzing it. At least she had the cars to shield her from prying eyes this time, and she was slightly further from her house, so her whispered "Fuck!" hadn't attracted any unwanted attention. She crouched there, leaning against the side of her car, trying to catch her breath. When she noticed it was her own car that she was leaning against, she cursed her own stupidity. If only she had remembered to grab her car keys, she could now be driving away in a matter of seconds, instead of having to run away on a sprained ankle._

_She crouched there, staring at the door, and for the first time, she feared it, feared having to re-enter that door ever again. She rested there for a minute until the initial sharp pain had ebbed away to a dull throbbing before she picked herself up and continued to run away, the fear of being discovered after she had tried so hard to escape driving her to run all the way without stopping, until she reached Santana's house. _

That night was the first time her fear of going home had outweighed her fear of someone finding out. And now, here she was, back at that hateful place. The two cars were still here – hers and her parents' - and the front door was right in front of her. In fact, the spot in which she was standing was probably the exact spot in which she had sat in that day, heart pounding and praying that her short rest would not cause her to be discovered. Except it was broad daylight now, her parents were in police custody, and this was hopefully the last time she would ever see this place.

"Are you okay?" Shelby asked. Sharon just stood there quietly. They had both noticed the quickening of Quinn's breath and the widening of her eyes at the sight of the house. Shelby had no idea what the girl was thinking but she would hazard a guess that she was reliving unpleasant memories of what had happened that night. "Take all the time you need."

Quinn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm fine," she stated firmly, determined to not give Shelby an excuse to force her into a heart-to-heart. "Let's do this." At least she was back in her own body and in the present timeline once again.

The front door was unlocked. They walked in, and Quinn stared at the mess. The police had obviously been here before.

"I'm sorry for the mess," she mumbled.

Shelby and Sharon both remained standing. Certainly, the furniture was slightly out of place, but it was in no way a mess. They both supposed the Fabrays were one of _those_ people, whose houses were meant for display rather than for living in.

"Take a seat on the couch," Quinn added, walking towards the kitchen.

"You don't have to serve us drinks, you know. We're not guests," Shelby said

"Well you're in _my_ house, aren't you?" Quinn snapped back. Honestly, she had no idea why she was serving drinks to these two women she barely even knew. It was just something you did for visitors, something deeply ingrained in her since she was a kid. She was too well-trained by her parents to provide good Christian hospitality to all guests, she silently mocked herself. Even so, she doubted her parents would approve of her rudeness.

Whatever, they weren't here now to voice out their disapproval. She could do as she pleased.

Sharon guided Shelby to the couch. "She's right, you know, this _is_ her house. Let's see what she wants to do here, okay?" Shelby agreed reluctantly, and accepted the glass of coke that Quinn placed in front of her. "Thank you."

However, Quinn didn't stay. "I'll get my things and then we can leave," she told them, heading for the stairs.

Shelby couldn't help but interfere again. "Don't you want one of us with you while you're there?"

"I'm fine," Quinn insisted.

"But you're still injured, you can't carry everything down by yourself, you'll hurt yourself," argued Shelby. _Not to mention your bedroom probably has tons of memories you really shouldn't have to face alone._

"I'll be _fine_," Quinn snapped.

Sharon placed a hand over Shelby's but kept her eyes fixed on Quinn. "You'll call for us if you need our help, right? I'm sure you understand that we just don't want you to hurt yourself and end up back in the hospital."

Quinn nodded and turned towards the stairs without another word.

"At least keep the door open so we can hear you, alright?" she heard Shelby call out.

Quinn felt something sharp prick in her heart. She had no idea what kind of a scene awaited her in her room, and she was thankful that Sharon had prevented Shelby from coming up with her. If she had to break down, she would really rather it not be witnessed by anyone.

However, she was also secretly very thankful that Shelby still cared for her despite her stubbornness and rudeness. She honestly didn't understand why Shelby would care for her, a strange girl she barely even knew, a rude and angry teenager who didn't even get along with Shelby's own real daughter. _Shelby wouldn't care for you so much if she knew how she used to treat Rachel_, that annoying voice in her head whispered. Shut up, she thought in exasperation. If Rachel didn't feel the need to tell Shelby, then Shelby never needed to know.

She paused outside her door. How would it feel, to see that room again after all that effort she had put into escaping from it that night? she wondered. Would she feel detached and floaty again, or would she be assaulted by an explosion of emotions and break down, overwhelmed by memories of that night? Honestly, the former would be much more helpful to her packing endeavors - she would really wish to not start sobbing now, even if she was relatively alone. She sighed, it was something she would have to get done sooner or later, she might as well get it over and done with. Besides, Shelby had not seemed convinced that Quinn ought to be left alone, and she would really rather finish this unpleasant task before she came up here on some pretence of checking on her.

Considering the mess downstairs, the first thing she noticed was that her room was surprisingly clean - and empty. In fact, almost everything that could remind her of what had happened that night was gone, probably removed by the police when they were collecting evidence. Her strewn clothes from that night were gone, even the ball of twine from which _he_ had cut the twine used to tie her hands up was gone. Most obviously, her entire mattress had been removed from the bed frame and was nowhere to be found. In a way, she was relieved, thankful even. Her room didn't even look like her room anymore.

Anyway, she didn't need any of the things that the police had taken and would be thankful if she never had to see them again. She ran through the list of items to pack in her head. All she wanted were her books, her laptop and her clothes. There were no personal items here that she wanted to keep, no fond memories of this place that she felt any desire to treasure. This place had been her jail, a wall-papered and very expensively furnished one, and the irony was that although she had technically been free to come and go every single day and could have run off at any time, it had taken being tied up for her to realize how mentally imprisoned she really was, and how much she needed to free herself.

She walked around the room, moving all the things she needed into a pile on her desk. Everything else in the room was part of her past, which was dead to her now. She was leaving - her heart had left this place already, and she was going to physically leave this place now as well. She was leaving and she was going to make a better future for herself and her baby.


	44. Cause that's all I've ever known, Part 2

Guest – Both you and I know that, but Shelby doesn't. Her response is understandable for a person who knows only what she knows, who doesn't know Rachel's hidden fears or about her history with Quinn. She's trying to push Rachel to talk, but she doesn't dare push too hard either - she hasn't had enough time with Rachel to be comfortable enough with her. So innocent mistakes were made on her part, that led to disastrous effects on Rachel's mental and emotional state. That's real life, where more often than not, people do things based on inadequate knowledge and just have to hope for the best.

laxwriter - Yes. I'm glad you liked it. You're right about Russell being another reason for Quinn's meanness. His approval is so rare for Quinn that when I look at how, despite everything Quinn excels at, her bullying of Rachel is the only thing he is proud of her about, I can't help but feel sorry for Quinn.

Comegetit - Thank you.

ekcandyapple - Thanks! Shelby's going to be around all the time now, but if you're referring to the Four Evil Parents, then my answer is that they will be back eventually but not for another 10+ chapters.

SA03 - Haha, hope it was a nice surprise for you (: Yes, my finals are over, but I still have pretty regular school and a bunch of other projects I have to work on as well. I'm sorry she left you confused, but her part was coming, I just didn't have space to fit it all into one chapter. Especially given how much of her POV there was to tell.

Alese222 - 9 days, actually, but oh well. This day will be a continuation of the same day yes, and I hope you like it too.

CarmellaD'Winter - Haha, have you heard of the phrase 'calm before the storm'? Hmmm... Am I really just kidding here? Lol. Anyway, teasing aside, I'm glad you liked the characters' inner thoughts and that you're still remembering Rachel and wanting to smother her in cuddles despite it being a Quinn-centric chapter. (:

Shana - Hahaha, yes you really are the only one, which surprises me a little, because I thought more people would bite on those dangling carrots. I guess most people can't bear to ask/anticipate so much and be left waiting for months for tidbits of answers, so kudos to you for hanging in there! You're asking the right questions, and I'm sorry I can't answer them yet. I'm glad you enjoyed Quinn/Shelby. The scenes at Quinn's house were fun to write and a nice closure to that venue/setting where so many horrible things have happened. I'm curious about one thing: Why do you think Quinn will tell Shelby about her real history with Rachel when she knows about Rachel and her dads?

1moredreamer - Hey, Renata. I'm glad you think Shelby is doing an amazing job with the girls. I think so too, although I think it I'll be hard for her to see that, given how difficult this job is. With regards to the bullying, my focus will actually be more on how Quinn and Santana's feelings about the bullying change as time goes by, rather than what other people do to them to punish them. They're too strong-willed and the only time they recognize what they did was wrong is if they come to that realization themselves, not have it yelled at them. Sometimes, the punishment you give yourself can be far worse than anything others can do to you. That said, the bullying will take some time to be addressed due to more pressing and immediate concerns, and I hope that when that time comes, you'll like how I've chosen to handle the issue. Regarding Rachel, she hasn't missed any classes yet (except the Friday after the slushies and fight with Karofsky), and she is very well rehearsed at the art of acting like everything is okay while she's at school, so it'll be hard for someone to notice something. She will get more than just one friend eventually, though, so that's something to look forward to.

lemon-rind - Quinn does have a more level head than Rachel but currently, everything is too raw, too repressed, and triggers result in barely suppressed anger. Thanks for your suggestion about Maribel/Shelby, it was very useful and specific (which is a very good thing, because it is so much harder to decipher vague suggestions), and I'll definitely keep that in mind.

JWilson18 - You're welcome. Glad you liked it (: It has been a long time in coming, especially since I skipped over most of her escape attempt to have her show up at Santana's house.

NZgleek91 - Haha, thanks for that. Yup, this was really hard for Quinn but she's strong and she's a survivor, and I suppose the detachment does help too. As does the presence of Shelby, whom Quinn at least has the sense to know, won't hurt her.

ArmadilloPretzels - Haha, three cheers for Quinn indeed. This was just one step that she overcame, though, and there will be many more obstacles for her to overcome in time to come.

Wands and Waves - Thanks! I will definitely continue writing (:

shiniso - Yay! It's always nice when reviewers acknowledge attempts at faster updates, because often, it seems like no matter how quickly you try to update, it's never fast enough. I'll try to keep the intervals to 1-2 weeks from now until I finish this story, except for when I go overseas for an extended period of time (: Rachel was a _very small dose, but I wanted Quinn to have her time in the spotlight before Rachel once again takes (or snatches?) centre stage. It's hard to write too much drama for Quinn when she's so closed off but I'll try. As harmful as her avoidance is to her mental and emotional health, it has certainly helped her to survive the most extreme and adverse of circumstances and still be a "success" by any definition of the world. In fact, I'm not sure if she is even all that in control of her avoidance, because considering her family, it is likely an automatic response she has learned from young.

monprincess - Yup, poor Quinn indeed but she is handling it remarkably well, almost too well, actually. Thanks (:

KC1991 - It's a pretty big bed, so I doubt having to share it would really be a reason for them to start fighting. It's a good thought, though, and I always feel pleased when my readers/reviewers start trying to predict what will happen next :D

GreenLemons - No, she doesn't. She knows the chlamydia infection was from Russell, since it was newly diagnosed at this current admission, but like the social workers and everyone except Dr Lopez and Quinn's as yet unnamed gynecologist, she thinks that Quinn was impregnated by her boyfriend first, which was the reason for this most recent episode of violence as "punishment". A medical file is accessible to many healthcare workers, including medical students, and so if you want to keep a certain piece of highly sensitive information really confidential, you are allowed to request to keep it out of your medical file. At least, that's how it works here, I'm not sure about the US.

Guest - I'm sorry to deny you especially after your very capsulated "Please" but unfortunately, my chapters are planned way in advance and there is no room for a huge fight In this chapter. Honestly, Rachel had enough drama in her life coming right up, that for now, at least, Quinn and herself will be having an unspoken temporary truce. Neither girl would benefit from a fight, nor do they currently have much reason to fight each other. And besides, Rachel doesn't really think that she's gone through a lot. She still thinks their actions were justified. If they ever have this fight, it'll be a while

Chapter 42. ...'Cause that's all I've ever known, Part 2

"Dude, you're awesome."

_Right_. Rachel sighed. Why did boys think that girls might like to be referred to as the opposite gender? Maybe because they subconsciously considered themselves to be the superior gender and hence thought that referring to a girl as "dude" was some weird form of bro-compliment? She chose to ignore that term of address and focus on the schoolwork laid out in front of them. "So, do you get it now?"

"Yep, I think I do. Man, Mr Simons was going on and on about estrogen and progesterone and I didn't even know what they were. I totally owe you one, Rachel. I _really_ need to get a decent mark on this test in order to pass Biology but this topic is so confusing and I was pretty sure I was going to majorly flunk the stupid test. I honestly didn't expect an hour of tutoring from you to help me all that much but you're like, super smart, and you made everything seem so simple! I mean, you just spent the last hour teaching me what Mr Simons took two weeks to teach us!"

Rachel shrugged. Finn wasn't all that dumb, and he probably could have understood what was taught in class if he had gone through the reading materials before class and actually paid attention to the lesson. Still, it had been pretty satisfying when he had finally understood what she had been trying to teach him. She could somewhat see why her mother would enjoy teaching.

"We should pack up and head to the choir room, or we'll be late for Glee."

"Listen, could we do this again this Thursday. I know the second chapter of the test is like, even more awkward than the first but there's no way I'm going to figure it out before my test on Friday and I could really use your help."

"Sure," Rachel agreed easily. It wasn't like there was a long queue of people lining up for her to eat her lunch with, and Finn was as good a company as any, even if she hadn't quite figured out whether him calling her "dude" was a compliment or an insult. Besides, even his cluelessness was kind of cute.

"Let's go for Glee now before we're late."

…

Shelby walked up the stairs, wondering why three people would require a four-storey house with at least fifteen rooms. This wasn't a house, it was a mansion and she couldn't imagine growing up in a place like this. Everything looked beautiful and classy but when you were actually walking through the house, it just felt cold and lonely. Kind of like the vibes that Quinn gave off all the time.

There was only one light switched on, on the fourth floor, which she assumed was Quinn's room. The door wasn't closed, so she merely hesitated at the doorway and looked in. Quinn was sitting on the floor staring at empty space, and her desk held neat stacks of books, clothes and electronics.

"Are you okay?" Shelby asked.

Quinn blinked. "Yes. I'm fine. I've sorted out what I need, I just need to pack these into a suitcase then I'm good to go."

"Okay. Where are your suitcases? Why don't I help you pack them? I'm sure two people can work faster than one."

"Downstairs," Quinn replied, and did not object when Shelby reached out her hand to help her stand up from her sitting position.

She was thankful that Shelby hadn't mentioned her daydreaming. In truth, she had just needed a moment. While removing the things she wanted to take with her, she had suddenly realized that this was it. She was leaving and never coming back. That night had been a frantic, insane, hurried escape attempt fueled by fear and adrenaline, but this – this was calculated and planned. She was sorting out the things she needed to bring with her away from this place so that she would never have to step foot here again.

As hateful as this place had been, it had still been her home. Whatever they had done to her, they had never kicked her out of their house, and she'd always had this place to return home to. The thought of leaving had never once crossed her mind before that night. But once she left this house today, she would never have a real home again. She would be living in other people's homes, out of a suitcase, out of her car… She couldn't even imagine how life was going to be now.

So she had just needed a moment, not just to say goodbye to this house, but to say goodbye to her previous life as well.

She wondered if it would really be so bad. Sure, she had been rich and popular, McKinley's first sophomore Cheerio captain, practically untouchable. But she had also been a straight-up mean bitch, even to girls like Rachel who had never really done anything to hurt her. And being untouchable had also meant that she had no friends, no _real _friends besides Santana and Brittany.

Maybe things could be different this time around.

Quinn led Shelby down the stairs to their massive storeroom in the basement where all kinds of junk was stored. There were at least eight different suitcases to choose from and she turned questioning eyes on Shelby.

"How much am I allowed to bring?" she asked quietly.

Shelby looked confused for a moment. "As much as you want, I assume. Or as much as you can carry?"

Quinn looked away and remained silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her eyes refused to meet Shelby's and were fixed on a spot on the wall behind her. "Isn't there some kind of a limit on how many possessions your _foster children_ can have?"

From the way Quinn emphasized the word "foster", Shelby assumed she was highlighting the difference between herself and Rachel, Shelby's actual birth daughter and she couldn't help but feel pity for the blonde.

"Besides," Quinn continued, lifting her chin so that she was looking directly into Shelby's eyes this time. "I'm not even sure how long I'll be staying with you before I'm shipped off to yet another foster home. Maybe I should be grateful I don't have to carry my things around in _garbage bags_ like foster children used to have to do."

Shelby winced, immediately feeling guilty for thinking just this morning about how Quinn's presence had changed Rachel's behaviour and wondering if keeping Quinn was the right thing to do. This morning, it had seemed so simple – her own daughter should always come first.

Faced now with an insecure yet still defiantly proud Quinn, however, she found herself losing the heart to consider returning Quinn to Child Protective Services. However strong a front Quinn put up and however abrasive her language could get sometimes, she was still a girl, a child who had gone through some terrible experiences that Shelby couldn't even imagine.

What was it like to have to live with strange people you didn't trust? What was it like to live each day uncertain of where you would be living tomorrow? What was it like to have to depend on the charity of others all the time? No wonder the girl was so angry. And even despite her sullenness, despite the way she raised Rachel's defensive walls and made their small but already all too complex family unit even more complicated, could Shelby really so callous and uncaring as to throw this girl back into the system just because she made her life a little more difficult?

"Why don't you think of this as living with your friend for awhile," she found herself suggesting, in as kind a voice as she could muster. "Rachel _is_ your friend, right? I'm just your friend's mother, there's no need to put a 'foster' label on anything."

'What's the point?' Quinn wanted to demand. Whatever Shelby called it, she was still her temporary house guest, dispensible if she caused too much trouble. However, she recognized that Shelby was just trying to be nice, and as much as she loathed that patronizing tone of voice or the implication that she needed the pity and kindness of others, she swallowed her pride and nodded.

"Sure. Whatever."

"So just take whatever you need. I'm sure we can find space for it. We have two cars with us today, it should be more than enough to bring anything you need with you. Besides, I don't think you want to come back here again after today."

Quinn nodded and selected one large luggage that she hoped would be big enough for all her things. She would bring enough that she would have all the things that she needed and need never return here again, but she wasn't going to take too much. If she needed to change homes, or if she ever needed to run away, this one suitcase here and the duffle bag that Sharon had packed for her in the hospital was just about the maximum that she could carry on her own.

She noticed Shelby hadn't said anything about how long she would be allowed to stay with them, and whether the omission was accidental or on purpose, either way, she couldn't trust her hospitality forever. Either Shelby would find out about her previous bullying of Rachel, or find out the father of her baby, or maybe just find her bad attitude intolerable – there were a million and one reasons she could find herself on her own once more.

Shelby nodded at her choice and took Quinn's suitcase from her. "You were just discharged from the hospital and still have a sprained ankle. Let me help you."

"Thanks," Quinn said quietly and allowed Shelby to remove the suitcase from her hands. Just this once, she decided. Her sprained ankle was killing her and allowing Shelby to help her didn't mean she trusted her. It just meant she was allowing her to help her this once, that's all.

Soon enough, everything was packed. All her school books went into her backpack, and the rest of her things into her suitcase. Shelby and Sharon's help had sped up the process, although it might have also been that with their presence, she had had to stay focused on the task of packing, and hadn't been able to get lost in her thoughts. At least they helped her quietly, Quinn mused, and didn't question her about her oddly empty bedroom. If placed in the same situation, Rachel would probably have started to ask her a million questions.

She loaded everything into her car and got into the driver's seat, Shelby getting in beside her. They had pre-arranged that since Quinn had a car she wanted to bring with her, Sharon would drive them over, and Shelby would sit in Quinn's car on the way back home, so that she could watch her drive and make sure she was a safe driver. Quinn wondered why Shelby even cared, since even her own parents hadn't done that, but then she remembered she had promised to help drive Rachel to and from school, and accepted the arrangement without protesting.

Shelby was just concerned for Rachel's safety, and wanted to ensure her daughter had a safe driver, Quinn told herself. This didn't mean Shelby actually cared for Quinn and whether or not she got herself into car accidents.

...

Rachel picked up her bag and was about to leave the choir room when Mike called out to her.

She turned to face him. "Yes, Michael?"

Mike blinked a few times and smiled in amusement.

"Did I say something wrong?" Rachel asked, immediately defensive.

"No," Mike reassured immediately. "It's just that no one else really calls me 'Michael', not even the teachers. My father is the only person who calls me that. When you say 'Michael', I instinctively look around for him and I would be truly surprised to find him in our choir room."

"Oh. Okay. I guess I can call you 'Mike' like everyone else," Rachel replied. She had always thought that nicknames were only for friends to use and had not been certain if she was friends with Michael since they hardly ever spoke to each other. "How may I be of assistance to you, Mike?"

Mike smiled again but Rachel's formal and verbose manner of conversation was probably not as easy to correct as her formal address of her friends. Anyway, it was what made Rachel unique, and he didn't really mind it. "Just now, when you and Finn spoke to Mr Schue about Sectionals coming up, it reminded me of what you said two weeks ago, when the club sang you the song? You said that my voice wasn't too bad but it needed some training and I should sing more."

"Yes, I remember that. And you have a very good memory because I distinctly remember making that exact comment. Let me guess, you've taken my words to heart and you're here to ask me if I would be willing to give your some tips on your singing, maybe even a few lessons?"

He hefted his backpack higher on his shoulder. "Yes, actually. If you don't mind?"

"I would love to! I'm really quite certain that you could go very far with a little help. You obviously have very strong lungs, probably from football and dancing, so what you really need to learn is how to use your diaphragm properly…"

Mike waited patiently for her to finish her speech. "Thanks, I really appreciate it. I can't really stay for a lesson now, though, but maybe tomorrow? Or whenever you're free."

Rachel laughed at his implication that her little impromptu speech had been a "lesson". "Sorry, I get carried away sometimes, especially when it comes to singing, or just talking about singing. I'm just so excited that someone has been listening to my constant reminders that Sectionals is a team competition and all of us need to work hard and pull our weight…"

She caught the long-suffering look in Mike's eyes and stopped herself mid-speech. "I'm sorry, I'll try not to ramble on and on, especially when I'm now aware that you're actually listening to me. As for when I'm free, I'll text you?"

Mike waved away Rachel's apology. Her rambles were a small price to pay if she was willing to help him. And she was good too, they all knew that, and he had been surprised when she had so readily agreed to teach him, because he had always thought she was a little self-centered. Maybe she was so willing to help him because she knew he would never fight with her for her beloved solos. He definitely did _not_ want any solos, thank you very much, unless it was a little segment of solo dancing.

"Okay. Thanks, I really appreciate your willingness to help me. I would volunteer to help you with your dancing in return, but you're pretty good at that already."

"Not as good as you," Rachel admitted. While she would resolutely defend her superior singing ability against anyone who dared to challenge her, she had to admit that dancing had never really been her strong suit.

"Still, I'm not sure how much of a coach I can be, beyond just teaching the steps, and you usually have no problems with the actual steps. I haven't really had any formal training in dance, I just watch how people dance and try it out myself."

"If that's the case, you really are a very talented dancer indeed."

Mike shrugged at the compliment, a little embarrassed to be praised by the resident diva.

"Actually, there's this one style of dance that I really admire but never received training in, because well, it's not very appropriate for females… I've tried watching videos and learning it on my own like you said, but so far I haven't achieved much success in that endeavour."

"What is it?"

"Hip hop," Rachel confessed shyly.

"Awesome, I love hip hop!" Mike said, glad that it was a style of dance that he was very familiar with. "And that is not true, by the way. I know many girls who can pop and lock even better than I can."

Rachel shrugged, that had been her fathers' explanation as to why they refused to allow her to add hip hop to her myriad of other dance classes. She obviously didn't really agree with it since she had been secretly trying to learn it on her own. "Can you teach me?" she asked eagerly.

He nodded. "I would be more than happy to."

Rachel smiled. "Thanks. You text me your free times and I'll text you mine?"

"Sure! See you around, Rachel."

Wow, that was a revelation. Her Glee teammates usually only paid any attention to her when she was singing – no one ever listened to anything she _said_, or at least, she thought they didn't. Yet this was the longest conversation she had ever had with Michael - no, Mike - although they had shared most of their classes for the past two years and he had already been in the Glee club for a few months now.

If it took a slushy and a song for them to become friends, then it certainly was quite worth it, she thought as she headed for the auditorium. She had half an hour to spare before her mom came to pick her up and she intended to make full use of it.

She smiled as she walked up the stairs to the auditorium stage. She had missed this so much – the stage, performing it, bringing a crowd to its feet with just her voice. And it wasn't just for the audience's sake either. Even in an empty auditorium such as this, just standing on the stage made her feel at home again. Especially now, when her physical home seemed to be going through major upheavals every few weeks, first what happened to her fathers, then moving in with her mother, and now, having Quinn move in too.

The stage hadn't changed, though. It was as it had always been, large and inviting. She always felt most at home here, and she wondered if maybe it was just her overwhelmingly huge and dramatic personality that seemed so incongruent with high school, where most people's sole purpose of existence was to blend in with everyone else. She didn't want to blend in, she wanted to stand out, to stand up and declare her presence, to perform and prove her talent to the whole world.

However, truth be told, she hadn't really felt that way for the past few weeks. Her failure to stop her fathers from getting into trouble with the law made her feel small and helpless, her mother's wholly different way of treating her made her feel all confused, and living with the prettiest and most popular girl in school made her feel ugly and worthless in the worst way possible.

And there was no one she could tell all this to. Her mother wouldn't understand how she felt about her fathers, she seemed to really hate them even if she must have liked them well enough once upon a time, to have given her daughter to them. She couldn't tell her mother about Quinn anyway, and as for Quinn, there was no way she would be able to share any of her feelings with Quinn. Not unless she wanted them written all over the walls of the bathroom stalls the very next day.

But that was another thing the stage was good for – singing out her feelings. Even if no one was there sitting in the audience, the stage itself was still always there, listening and absorbing all these larger than life emotions that she couldn't help but belt out. Ironically, she wondered if one day, she might be able to write a musical of her own life and sing about this very moment to crowds of adoring fans in packed audiences. For now, though, it was enough just to sing. And she knew just the song to describe how she felt right now.

_Smile, though your heart is aching  
Smile, even though it's breaking  
When there are clouds in the sky you'll get by  
If you smile through your pain and sorrow  
Smile and maybe tomorrow  
You'll see the sun come shining through for you_

_Light up your face with gladness  
Hide every trace of sadness  
Although a tear may be ever so near  
That's the time you must keep on trying  
Smile – What's the use of crying?  
You'll find that life is still worthwhile  
If you just smile…_

…

When the car turned into the driveway, it took Rachel a moment to realize that it was her ride. It wasn't that she was unfamiliar with her mother's car, but the car that had just driven in was definitely not her mother's, even though her mother was in it. Mom was sitting _beside_ the driver. It was Quinn's car, and Quinn was the one driving it, although the girl in the baggy shirt, wearing a baseball cap into which was stuffed most of her long blonde hair, and a pair of sunglasses, looked nothing like the former head cheerleader.

"Get in quickly," Quinn hissed at Rachel, knowing that even if she wasn't quite recognizable, her car most certainly was. Her only saving grace was that it was late enough in the afternoon that most students had left, but not late enough that training and practice hadn't ended yet for the jocks and cheerleaders.

Rachel shook herself out of her reverie, getting over her surprise long enough to get into the car. Quinn breathed a sigh of thanksgiving and relief at not having been spotted, and pealed out of the driveway immediately, almost before Rachel had even closed the car door fully.

"Slow down, Quinn," Shelby advised automatically, even though she understood that Quinn had driven so quickly only to get out of the school as quickly as possible. Her weird dressing had been the first clue to her reluctance to be seen picking Rachel up from school but Shelby had convinced her to do so when she pointed out that she needed to know Quinn was familiar with the roads between her house and the school. So far, other than the speed at which Quinn had raced out of the school, Quinn had proved to be quite a careful and proficient driver.

"How was school, Rachel?"

"It was fine," Rachel replied. "I got Quinn's homework for her, one math assignment, one Chemistry practical and one English essay. I took detailed notes in all our lessons so she can copy them from me later. And for Glee, this week's assignment is just to think about what songs we want to sing for Sectionals – solos, duets and group numbers. We're supposed to present them on Thursday…"

She couldn't keep it in any longer. "Why is Quinn driving and not you?"

"We went to get some of her things from her house today, and we decided to get her car as well. It'll be useful to have a second car at home, so she can pick you up next time if I'm not available. I'm usually free now, but might not be once I start taking in students. We took her car to pick you up today so I could observe her driving skills, make sure she's a safe driver. So far, she's been doing quite well."

At this, Rachel fell silent. All she could think about was how Quinn could drive a car and she couldn't, how Quinn was already getting her things from her house and moving them into Rachel's, and most importantly, how Quinn had gotten to spend the entire day with her mother. Besides the short after-school shopping trip, they hadn't gone out together since her discharge from the hospital but Quinn got to go out with her mom the first day she was here.

_Smile_, she reminded herself. _Just keep smiling._

…

Rachel was uncharacteristically silent in the car ride home and even when she got home, she just silently headed up the stairs to keep her bag and change out of her school clothes. When she saw Quinn's luggage in the corner of her room and Quinn's books and backpack at the other half of her desk, she paused. For a moment it looked like she wanted to scream, but she took a deep breath, and fixing her smile even more firmly on her face, she grabbed some home clothes and stalked into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Quinn took all this in silently. Honestly, the day had gotten better than expected, especially considering what she'd had to do, but now that Rachel was home, she was behaving all weird again. All the acting classes in the world had obviously not done Rachel any good, because seriously, it was obvious to anyone who knew her that she was clearly not as happy as the fake smile on her face tried to make her out to be. Even if Shelby couldn't tell it, it was obvious to Quinn who had tormented the girl for the past few years. Her current fake smile was the one she always gave while walking away from the slushies, insults and name-calling, not the genuine one she gave when receiving applause for yet another perfectly performed solo.

Quinn thought for a moment, wondering what could have happened to Rachel. Her weirdness was different from last night too. She wasn't nervous or frightened this time… now, she seemed almost angry, and Quinn couldn't figure out why.

Quinn knocked on Rachel's bathroom door. "Rachel? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," came the muffled response, although Quinn could detect a slight wavering of her voice that indicated that Rachel might be crying.

"Did something happen today? Like maybe in Glee club?"

"I'm fine. Nothing happened. Go away."

"Did you get slushied?" Quinn ventured, although she wondered if even a slushy could have altered Rachel's mood so much. Santana's flippancy aside, she had been kind of right when she pointed out that Rachel had gotten slushied so many times, she was probably immune to them by now.

"You weren't in school, so who else would have slushied me?" Rachel ground out in reply.

Quinn winced and pricked her ears up, hoping that Shelby hadn't heard Rachel's angry retort. All she heard was the clanging of pots and pans downstairs, and she released the breath she had been holding. Well, Rachel was behaving all weird and Quinn's presence was clearly not helping so maybe Rachel was right, she would be better off waiting downstairs and allowing Rachel to cool off on her own.

"Okay. I'll go down and help your mom set the table. See you in a bit."

Rachel felt something catch in her throat when Quinn said "your mom" but thankfully, her room door opened and closed again, indicating that Quinn had finally left the room. That, and the mention of how she was helping her mom set the table caused such a sharp pain in her heart that it was all she could do to not break down and start crying. Quinn was taking over her mom, taking over her previous chores, taking over her room – Quinn was taking over her entire life!

And there was nothing she could do about it except to smile and act like everything was okay.


	45. Then you took me by surprise

CarmellaD'Winter - Actually, neither of their lives are changing all that much, at this point, their fears are really all in their head. They're both in secure situations - Rachel's Mom would never abandon her, and Maribel would take Quinn in if her situation with Shelby doesn't work out - but they don't know it, don't trust that the adults in their life will look after them because their other parents have let them down so badly.

lemon-rind - Thanks! You got the theme right, I wanted to show how lonely they both felt, a feeling that is very familiar to both girls - "Cause that's all I've ever known." Also, I wanted to show that the mistrust that is all the girls have known/learned over the years is what caused these feelings in the first place, because they really don't have to feel this way. By the way, what's a "Mary-Sue fic"?

Em - It would, and it did (for example, see Chapter 15), but currently more pressing issues are dominating her mind (:

Alese222 - Yes, Rachel is sort of having neglect issues of her own, even if it's unfounded and not really Shelby's fault. Here's the dinner time scene that you wanted, hope you enjoy it (:

ArmadilloPretzels - I love it too, and it plays in my head a lot when I write how Rachel smiles and tries to pretend everything is okay when it isn't.

olacindy - I hope this chapter gives you an idea of what I think will help them (: It won't change how they view things completely, but I think it'll be a good start to first clearing up some misunderstandings.

JWilson18 - Yep. I like Mike too, and there will be more of him coming up. I think he feels bad about the slushy and is going out of his way to be nicer to her, but there will be a genuine friendship developed between those two, even if he isn't going to be a main character (:

1moredreamer - I think the context of my comment was that Rachel doesn't realize what her fathers did to her was wrong. Rachel does realize the slushies and bullying from Quinn and Santana were wrong (remember "two wrongs don't make a right"?) but brushes it off because she's too used to it. Quinn did apologize to her before (offering to let her slushy her, and singing the song with Glee club) and she accepted the apology then because she's just naturally a forgiving person. Plus she's still a little awestruck by Quinn, haha. I think, like in canon, she would just be very grateful to have the chance to be friends with the two most popular girls at school. She's just a very trusting person.

Guest - I don't know if you remember but some time ago, I explained that the reason why I write Quinn this way is because I want to show a girl who is angry and appears to be strong, and how she still has real problems and needs help. These kids often fall through the cracks, fail to get the help they need and deserve, and I'm glad to read that you can see that and you're rooting for Quinn (:

NZgleek91 - Thanks (: Rachel _is_ making a friend with Mike, and that storyline will be further explored a little, although he won't be a main character in this story.

Guest - Poor Rachel indeed. Quinn will get to be with Santana and Brittany but only when she gets back to school. They're her friends.

Shana - I'm sorry the site ate your review. I hope to get to read it again sometime (: By the way, with regard to your answer, does that mean if you expect Quinn to tell Shelby, she (thinking you have figured her out) would most likely surprise you by not saying anything? :P Last but not least, enjoy your small bite of carrot in this chapter!

Greenlemons - I hope this chapter pleases you, since it's the start of what you said you can't wait for (: The rest of your predictions of what will happen by the time Quinn has her sleepover are also actually pretty accurate, and will come to pass in due time.

monprincess - Yes, that is part of what I wanted to show through her conversation with Mike, that Rachel did have opinions which differed from her fathers and she is slowly daring to try them out now that she has left their tyrannical rule. By the way, I'm just curious, why did you find a need to let me know you were the no. 756th reviewer? (:

Anon – I know it is, I'm sorry. Things do speed up a little in this chapter, hope you enjoy it (:

Rini – Looks like my timing for this chapter is just right… or maybe you're exercising mind control on me to speed things up for the two girls? If the latter is true, I'm sure all my other readers thank you very much :P

puckleberry4ever – Thanks, hope you enjoy this update (:

Chapter 43. Then you took me by surprise 

"How was your day, Mom?" Rachel asked.

Shelby watched as Rachel twirled and un-twirled the spaghetti around her fork for the millionth time. She couldn't understand why Rachel was so agitated, but Rachel had refused to give her any possible explanation, giving her standard answer of "school was fine" and then proceeded to turn the question back on her to ask her how _her_ day was. It was exasperating, but at least tonight, it seemed she wasn't the only clueless one at the table. Quinn appeared to be equally confused, even though she was trying very hard to appear nonchalant instead.

"My day went well. After we got Quinn's things, I managed to contact the owners of this house. We've made some headway into purchasing it, and we also got their permission to do major renovations to their house, since it's almost certain that we're going to buy it anyway."

"We?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention. Your friend Santana's mother, Maribel has been helping me. She used to work in real estate. She also recommended me the contractors who'll be doing the soundproofing of my office."

Her _friend_ Santana? Rachel wondered. Santana was more like _Quinn's_ friend. She tried to ignore the spiteful little voice inside her that whispered that not only was her mother spending so much time with Quinn, and enjoying it too, she was already getting to know Quinn's friends and Quinn's friends' parents… As for Rachel herself, what friends did she have for Shelby to get to know? The stage in the auditorium who was usually her only audience for her many solo practices? Why would Shelby want to know _her_ friends anyway?

She stabbed her fork into the spaghetti viciously and took deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. _Keep smiling, Rachel_.

Beside her, it seemed that this was news to Quinn too.

"You're friends with Aunt Maribel?"

"Yes. Is that odd? You and Santana are friends too, right? And she's in the same grade as both of you too."

Quinn shrugged. "It's just… quick. You both just met." _At the hospital where I was warded. No prizes guessing what the two of you would be talking about besides renovation._

"I guess. But a friendship has to start somewhere, right? Anyway, she used to work as a real estate agent, and while she quit awhile back, she still knows all the contacts and legal procedures necessary to get something like this done."

Rachel looked from her mom to Quinn, half-listening to the both of them talking like they were old friends already. She couldn't help but notice that they were both tall and extremely pretty. She fidgeted, feeling terribly out of place sitting at the dinner table with two of the most beautiful people she knew. And they both had green eyes, she realized – she had thought Quinn's eyes were hazel, but it was actually green with hazel specks… Rachel's heart sank further into her chest, right into her stomach, causing her to lose all her appetite.

Her mother had said Quinn's stay was temporary, but who in their right mind would want to keep Rachel when they could instead have someone like Quinn for a daughter? Some parents might consider pregnancy a 'disadvantage' but her mom probably thought otherwise. Hadn't she shared that she wanted a baby and had gotten really depressed when she had found out that she couldn't have one? Couldn't have one because even as a neonate, baby Rachel had managed to screw up even a simple delivery and turn her mother's womb barren. Having a pregnant daughter, one who could give her a baby was surely the next best thing to having a baby of her own. She could be a grandmother instead of a mother, and if Quinn had to go to college then Shelby would probably be the one to raise her baby. _Quinn's_ baby.

Her mom's words, that she didn't know what to do with her (Rachel), repeated itself in her head and Rachel felt her spirits plummet, her determination to keep smiling and holding her head up high plummeting into nothingness. What was the point? It surely wouldn't be long before she returned Rachel to CPS and decided to keep Quinn instead.

_It's not fair, Mom. I still need you. Maybe Quinn needs a mom, maybe she needs you more than I do but I need you too. I need my mom._

She set her fork beside her plate with a sigh, lacking the energy to even keep up the pretense of being interested in her food. Her mind preoccupied, she didn't notice that the handle of the fork was slightly off the edge of the table, and when her elbow accidentally knocked against it, it went flying off the dining table and landed on the floor with a loud clang.

Shit! Rachel froze for half a second, her heart leaping from the pits of her stomach right up into her speechless mouth, before she jumped out of her seat to pick up the fallen fork. A few drops of spaghetti sauce that had been on the fork now spotted the floor and she reached up to grab her napkin, and clean up the mess she had made. In her haste, however, she accidentally knocked her entire plate of spaghetti over as well.

The noodles and vegetables splattered across her mother's very clean dining floor, turning the initially small spot of sauce into a much bigger mess.

Rachel started crying as she rushed to gather all the food in one pile and move them back onto her plate. As she bent over the floor and cleaned feverishly, she desperately repeated her most sincere apologies, all of which were met with silence from both Quinn and Shelby.

Within seconds, her napkin was completely soaked and entirely useless as a cleaning fabric, so she finally looked up to search for another cloth or other serviettes, only to find Quinn staring at her and her mother moving towards her. Her face coloured in shame at how she was at the very least going to be berated for her carelessness in front of her once-nemesis Quinn. Or more than just berated, perhaps, now that she no longer had Nurse Martha's dressing change appointments to protect her. She trembled slightly at the thought of her impending punishment, certain that this was definitely going to count against her when it came time for her mother to choose between her ugly, unpopular, clumsy and useless daughter and the pretty, popular and graceful Quinn. Especially when Quinn could probably give her a baby daughter just as beautiful as herself.

_As long as her mom didn't kick her out._ She steeled herself against that terrifying thought. She wasn't ready for that, it couldn't be happening so soon. Maybe, if she quietly and obediently submitted to whatever punishment her mother was going to dish out and did not kick up a fuss she would get to stay.

Quinn stared openly, unable to tear her eyes away from the interaction between Shelby and Rachel, occurring as though she wasn't even present. The dinner thus far had been gone rather smoothly, a little tense because of Rachel's strange behaviour but an improvement from yesterday's, she had thought. Now, however, her suspicions rang loudly in her head once more, making her wonder if she had been an extremely poor judgement of character and that Shelby was more like her own parents than she had thought.

Rachel had done little more than to drop a barely dirty fork onto the floor before she panicked and after she knocked her entire plate of spaghetti onto the floor in her state of fearful anxiety that looked so uncharacteristic on the normally confident diva, she proceeded to launch into a series of fearful "I'm sorry"s in a voice thick with desperation, all the while aggressively attacking the spaghetti sauce stain on the floor as though her life depended on it. And now Shelby was walking towards Rachel, whose frightened demeanour seemed to increase in terror with every step Shelby took towards her... What was Shelby going to do to Rachel? What kind of family was this that Sharon had placed her with?

"Stop!" Quinn shouted, unable to keep her suspicions in any longer. She stood up, drawing herself to full height, which was not as tall as Shelby was, but her upright posture was at least slightly better for defending herself if Shelby were to get violent. Far better than remaining a silent 'sitting duck' at the dining table. Her shouted word was out anyway, there was no way she could collect it back, and fade back into the background that she had been a part of just a few seconds ago. She wasn't sure what she wanted to, she still felt kind of guilty over the beating that Rachel had taken on the day of the Slushy Fest, and even if hadn't been partially responsible for that beating, even if Rachel was a total stranger to her, she didn't think she could stomach seeing the petite and frightened girl being beaten right in front of her and not do something about it.

She wasn't her mother. She would never become her mother.

Besides, she was the bigger child here. Rachel wasn't Frannie – Quinn was not only older than her, she was physically bigger as well. She wasn't going to stand around uselessly and watch Rachel get hit. She wasn't that small child anymore.

She reached out just in time to pull Shelby away from her brisk walk towards Rachel. Rushing ahead of her, she planted herself in front of Rachel's still kneeling form and directed at Shelby the fiercest, iciest glare she could muster up under those circumstances.

"Stop!" she repeated, trying to inject more forcefulness into her voice, even as her heart was thudding violently in her increasingly constricted chest. "Don't you dare touch her! If I dared to report my own parents to the authorities, I certainly would have no qualms about reporting you. And if that is not enough, I'll tell Rachel's fathers, who would definitely object to you mistreating their daughter while she's temporarily under your care!"

"I would never…"

"Don't play stupid with me, I'm not as gullible as Rachel, I'm not going to believe your bullshit! I'm not fucking blind, I've got eyes to see for myself, and what I've seen since yesterday is that she's scared all the time when she's around you and she's constantly looking at you warily, especially when she's talking, as though to check if her words are okay. And she's Rachel freaking Berry, she has never been afraid to speak her mind, she stands up to huge ass footballers even if it gets her beaten up, so what was it that you did to her? What the hell did you do to her to rob of her voice, to make her so damn scared of you, to turn her into this cowering, apologizing person I don't even think I recognize anymore?"

A stunned silence followed her outburst, as Rachel and Shelby both stared speechlessly at her. Surprisingly, it was Rachel that spoke up first.

"It's okay, Quinn," Rachel said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible, although the tears shining in her eyes and her trembling lower lip spoke to the contrary. Rachel placed the dirty napkin on her chair and held onto the back of the chair to help her stand up from her kneeling position on the floor. Her trembling legs just barely managed to support her. She took a step forward and placed a hand on Quinn's shoulder to get her attention.

"I… I'm not scared of my mom. She hasn't done anything to me, it's more what she isn't going to do for me anymore, but it's okay," she repeated. Her eyes found her mother's and she searched that beautiful face, well aware that this might be the last time she would be doing so. She had been so indignant and angry just now, but looking at her mother now, she couldn't find it in herself to be angry with her. She loved her so much, and if this was the last time she would be seeing her, then she couldn't waste it being angry. This wasn't her mother's fault, and she only had herself to blame for simply not being good enough.

There was so much she wanted to tell her mom, so much she wanted her to know. "It's okay, Mom. I'm glad you'll still have Quinn, that you found what you wanted in her, and she's pregnant too so maybe you could get the chance to look after a baby too, like you always wanted..." Rachel choked, at the memory of what her mom had shared with her that day, the day she found out she had made her mom infertile. She should have know that day, that after such a horrible result to her delivery, causing her mother's body such irreparable damage, her mom would never want to keep such a bad omen as herself.

She forced herself to continue. "I really enjoyed meeting you, being able to live here with you and getting to know you, even if only for a few days. I'll remember everything, meeting you for the first time, the moment you introduced me to Dr Lopez as your daughter, the night we watched 'Funny Girl' together... It was really great and I especially enjoyed cooking dinner that one night with you..." She sobbed, recalling the fond memory of learning how to cook a vegetable casserole with her mom. There would be no more such memories, no more hugs and goodnight kisses and kind, gentle hands.

No! Her mind screamed at her. No, this went against everything she believed in, she couldn't just give in so easily. If there was even a sliver of hope left that her mom could possibly still want to keep her… She couldn't give up.

"Please… I take that back, I don't want them to just become memories. I want to stay with you and I'll do anything to get to stay with you, even if just for one more day. Please find some other way to punish me… please."

She scrubbed the tears away from her eyes, wishing they could just go away, because she couldn't start sobbing here, she was already pathetic enough without adding the tears in… It was a hopeless endeavour, though, as more tears continued to fall more quickly than the speed at which she could wipe them away. She gave up after a few swipes in favour of continuing to plead her case with her mother.

"I'll behave myself and I won't spill my dinner anymore, and I'll be good, I promise. The both of you can eat dinner together and I can eat mine in the kitchen or not at all, I won't disturb you two… Please don't send me away. Please just punish me, any way you want, you could even let Quinn stay and watch. Please..."

"No!" Shelby shouted as Quinn's stunned eyes turned to stare at her. What the hell? Watch what? Quinn screamed in her head even though she had a sickening feeling that she knew what Rachel was thinking about.

"Please, Mom," she begged. "I know I've done many things wrong so far and I deserve the punishment. I deserve to be punished and I deserve to be punished really badly. I know you said you don't want to and you're probably not used to hitting children as punishment because you're new to being a mother but couldn't you please just try?"

She couldn't look at her mother anymore, so she fixed her eyes on the belt around her mother's waist instead, half hoping and half fearing that Shelby would just whip it out and hit her with it. Because then she couldn't return her to CPS, right? They would see the marks and Shelby would get into trouble just like her fathers had, so if she could only get Shelby to hit her tonight, then she would be safe, at least for the next few days, until the marks faded away. Not that Rachel would really report her mother if Shelby were to hit her and then kick her out but maybe Shelby didn't know that. She knew she was grasping at straws here but she simply had to try.

"It's easy really, and I promise I won't move away, won't try to avoid it, so all you would really need to do is just stand there and hit me. Please, I would really very much prefer it to being sent away. And I'll learn from my mistakes, I promise you, just tell me what you want me to do and I promise you I'll try even harder to obey you and be the daughter you want, whatever that is, and I'll try to make it so that you don't have to hit me too often. Or if you grow to find it a stress release like I think Dad sometimes did, then even better, you can punish me as often and as you hard as you want. I can take a lot of punishment without moving away or making a sound, you could punish me as long as you like."

"And since Quinn is pregnant, if she makes you angry for any reason, I could take her punishments for her too. I don't need to see Nurse Martha anymore, so she won't find out, and I promise I won't get into any fights, so no one will see it, no one will find out… Please… I really want to stay here with you."

Shelby tried to speak again but words failed her, because really, what was a mother to say when her daughter said that to her? What did it say about that mother that her daughter would even say – no, plead – such things to her? So she shook her head, repeatedly, but she knew it was useless, because Rachel was not looking at her. She followed Rachel's line of sight, and closed her eyes, sighing heavily when she realized that her daughter was staring at her waist. More specifically, the belt around her waist.

"This," she asked, pointing to her own belt. "You expect me to punish you with this?"

"Please," Rachel pleaded. She didn't expect it, but she hoped she would. She hoped her mother would punish her because that might mean she would also keep her.

She watched transfixed as Shelby quickly undid her belt and pulled it through the loops, and when Shelby folded the belt, doubling it, she closed her eyes and lowered herself onto her knees. _Here it comes._

However, the only sound that followed was that of the belt hitting the wall. The wall of the adjacent living room, and not the dining room that they were in. Rachel opened her eyes in surprise. Her eyes flickered to the belt now lying harmlessly on the floor of their living room and back to her mother. Why would she throw her belt so far away? Didn't she need it?

"Do you want me to go get it for you?"

Shelby knelt in front of her daughter and cupped her face tenderly. "No. I know you don't understand it, but I hope you will one day. I will never hit you with a belt. It is wrong, it is child abuse, it is illegal, and most importantly, I love you too much and could never bear to hit you like that."

"What if I want you to?"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to lose you. I don't want to have to leave. I'll do anything to stay on with you. I'll take any punishment over being made to leave."

"I will _never_ make you leave."

"One day, you will. One day, I'll screw up so badly that you can no longer tolerate my presence here, and you'll make me leave. Like with my fathers, like how they don't want me anymore. It'll happen with you too, especially because you also have Quinn, and you don't really need me, not like they needed me. And it'll probably happen even sooner too, if you don't want to punish me physically because how else are you going to punish me besides kicking me out? But Mommy, I don't want to leave. Please choose some other way to punish me. I'm serious, you can hit me as hard as you want and as many times as you want, I can take it, and I won't tell anyone, I promise."

Shelby's heart clenched painfully in her chest. The weight of Rachel's suspicions was just suffocating. "I won't hit you," she choked out. "I would never hit you."

Rachel shook her head.

"I won't. I promise," Shelby reiterated.

"You will. One day, you will. I'll screw up and you'll hit me. You'll either hit me or throw me out, and I want you to hit me. Please..."

"Why?"

"Because skin heals. Cuts heal and bruises fade and pain is only temporary. But I don't think I could bear leaving you forever. And also because I don't have anywhere else to go."

At the back of her mind, Shelby barely registered that this was the second time her daughter had asked her for anything and her request is almost exactly the same as the first. The first time had been in the hospital, when Rachel had sleepily overheard one of her broken emotional rants about not being good enough and had begged her not to go and leave her alone. And now, she thought she was the one who was going to be made to leave.

Her daughter; her beloved, traumatized, precious daughter. Who had not asked for medical treatment despite the pain she was in, had not asked for food despite not having eaten, and had not asked for clothes despite only having slushie-soaked sweaters to wear... All she ever asked for was to be allowed to stay with her mother, her mother who had failed her time and again. What had she ever done to deserve this, to deserve her?

"I don't understand why you won't hit me," Rachel whispered brokenly. "I won't tell, and my fathers won't mind either, really. They know it's the only way to punish me properly, to make me less defiant, to knock their instructions into my stubbornly thick skull. They did it all the time, so really, there's no reason why they would mind if you do the same too. Really. Dad won't care and Daddy wouldn't mind either, as long as it isn't too bad, like you don't burn me or break bones or something…"

Shelby turned her head sharply at that and Rachel hurried to retract her statement.

"Not that you can't do that, of course, I'm not saying you can't," Rachel hurriedly reassured her mother, although she couldn't stop the shudder that went through her body at the thought of being burnt or having any of her bones broken. "You can if you want to, if you w-w-want to punish me that way. Daddy won't find out because I won't tell. You can do anything you want to me."

Rachel took a deep breath before giving up her last offer, the last thing she could think of that her mom could possibly want from her. She didn't know if she had anything else to offer.

"I'll even let you hit me anytime. Anytime at all, whether I've done something wrong or not, you don't need a reason to hit me. I could be your personal punching bag. Anytime of the day, you could just order me to strip and get into whatever position you want me to be in and I'll stay in that position and let you hit me for as long and as hard as you want…"

"You'll let me, what? Shelby finally spoke, this last horrific offer tumbling out of her daughter's mouth too terrible for her to ignore. Dimly, she was aware that Quinn was still in the room but it didn't seem to matter quite as much to her anymore. She would talk to the blonde later, but first she needed to disabuse her daughter of the notion that she would possibly keep her at home for use as her personal punching bag. That she could ever want to hit her at all. That, oh God, why had Rachel even thought she was going to be sent away anyway?

She felt tears streaming down her cheeks too, but that was the least of her worries right now.

Rachel panicked momentarily. Why did she keep saying the wrong things today? "I didn't mean "let" of course, I mean you obviously have every right to hit me anytime you want, there's no question of me letting you do anything..."

Shelby shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked between her sobbing daughter and the stunned Quinn, knowing she needed to say something now before things got out of hand… more out of hand that it already was, but she found herself with frustratingly no words to say. Where could she even begin?

Through her tear-filled eyes, Rachel saw her mother shake her head and choked back a sob. What did her mother shaking her head mean? That she would rather send her away then hit her? Why? How could she just decide to kick her out without even trying to hit her first?

She tried a different tactic this time – maybe her mother just needed to see how useful she could be. "You don't have to send me away, you know. And you don't have to choose between the two of us too. I know no one in their right mind would choose me over Quinn. But you could… you could keep us both. I could be really useful! I'll do all of Quinn's chores, and yours, and mine as well, of course, and you don't have to pay me a cent. I'll move my things to the room with the boxes and give my current room to Quinn, and you won't even need to waste any money decorating it because I can sleep on the floor there. I'll be really quiet and keep out of your way, I'll even do the chores at night so I don't get in the way, you won't even notice I'm around. I know Quinn is older than me, and so I'll defer to her, obey everything she says as well, I won't give you or her any trouble at all. When she has the baby, I could help babysit for the two of you as well, and when she's on maternity leave, I could bring her back her homework and teach her what was taught in the lessons. Please…"

"Please..." she wanted to continue begging, but looking at the way her mother was still shaking her head, she was just embarrassing herself with no real chance of success. Maybe if she had behaved better, she might have stood a chance, but Quinn was already here and she had already screwed up, further begging was probably useless. She dropped her gaze to the ground and stared morosely at the mess of spaghetti sauce on the floor, the last straw that broke the camel's back, the final proof of her stupidity and uselessness. She wasn't worthy of being her mother's daughter. Quinn was the better choice, had always been the better choice, and there was nothing she could do about it. She was just debasing herself with no hope of receiving any pardon.

She steeled herself against the next words, hopelessness lacing her every word. "How much time do I have to pack my things?"


	46. You said, I'll never leave you alone

applebox123 – Quinn's reaction is coming up in this chapter (: Rachel does understand that Shelby loves her, it is just that her view of love is very warped. To Rachel, her fathers loved her and (not 'but') hit her for her own good, and Shelby's refusal to hit her challenges her world view and causes her to second guess her mother's love for her.

demisparks – Wow, I am honoured indeed (: The last chapter was predominantly on Rachel's perspective, and Quinn and Shelby get a bit more airtime in this chapter (:

Guest – I'm sorry you feel that way. Perhaps you could share a little more on why you think the chapters are terrible and the last chapter was the worst, and maybe suggest some ways to improve them (:

gogolax – Hope this update comes soon enough? :)

Shana – Thank you for your lovely review. I love how you always notice the small little details that I slip in! It makes the effort of inserting these carrots so much more worth it :D More are coming soon!

Alese222 – Her reaction to Rachel's words will come in due time, some in this chapter, and others in subsequent chapters. The night is still young, though, and there'll be more to this dinner situation before I go into its aftermath. And lastly, yes, the girls will be going for therapy (:

Guest – My reason for ending things there is kind of silly – to fit the title of the chapter. I'm done with the surprises ("Then you took me by surprise"), and in this new chapter, things will be calming down and issues will start to be resolved ("You said I'll never leave you alone"). Don't worry, though, I love happy endings, and these three will be ok (:

Em – Sorry for the cliffhanger, hope you enjoy this update (:

LindsayGlitters – Shelby has no choice but to deal with it, seeing as Rachel is her daughter and it'll be even harder for her because she is new to being to parenting and also all alone (no partner in parenting, no family and friends close by). She will have her fair share of struggles, and isn't going to be a Super Mom.

ajunebuga – Yep, I enjoyed writing that. Quinn's relationship with Rachel (and Shelby) will be a big influence on her recovery process (:

SA03 – Glad you enjoyed it! The issue of Quinn's permanence with Shelby isn't mentioned in this chapter, but it will be addressed soon enough, but only after Rachel's explosion has died down, and the issues she brought up addressed

NZgleek91 – Glad it didn't disappoint (:

iceygaze – Yes, it does mean I'm going to put Rachel out of misery and put her mind at ease, or at least some ease. All her insecurities won't realistically be resolved in one explosion, but this is definitely a milestone for her (:

CarmellaD'Winter – What could Shelby say indeed. I'm glad you understood Shelby's speechlessness. She definitely wanted to say something to reassure/correct/comfort Rachel, but she didn't know what to say. I love Quinn standing up for Rachel too. For all she has done, she really is basically a good person (:

JWilson18 – Thanks! Poor Shelby, indeed.

olacindy – Haha, yes, "total meltdown" is definitely the correct term to use (: Hope you enjoy this chapter, bringing with it "what happens next".

Renata – Thank you for your review. I'm glad you like that she is making friends, and she will continue to do so (:  
Actually, Rachel does have a normal life in canon - some might even consider her to be rather spoiled by her fathers. However, she still has this inexplicable desire to befriend both Santana and Quinn despite them being her tormentors, and I think this is because she really admires them/their popularity. They never really did make up for their actions either, but they still ended up as friends in Seasons 3 and 4. Just because they ought to make up for their mistakes doesn't mean it will happen in reality, especially when the "victim" (Rachel) doesn't demand for restitution.  
Regarding your suggestion that Rachel would be distant and aloof, she really isn't that kind of person. On the contrary, she's far too trusting, and while the previous bullying may cause her to be cautious/apprehensive of Quinn and her intentions, I think she would very much welcome a friendship with Quinn.  
Last but not least, I usually don't go around correcting people's English, but just FYI, the 3 Cheerios are nicknamed the 'Unholy trinity'. The 'Holy Trinity' is actually a Christian term for the Father, the Son (Jesus Christ), and the Holy Spirit, in other words, the three persons of the Godhead. There's quite a big difference between the two, heh.

lemon-rind – Haha, yes it is, what did you think about it? And thank you for your explanation on what a 'Mary Sue' is. Interesting term, but I don't really like characters that are too perfect, because it just isn't realistic.

OutOfNoWhereHereIAm – Wow, I'm sadistically glad you were in tears, because that means my writing touched you emotionally :D I love Quinn for standing up for Rachel too.

Rini – Haha, this conversation on mind control reminds me of Harry Potter… either entering my mind to implant an idea as in Legilimency, or flat out controlling my actions as in Imperio XD I'm glad you like the timing of the story. My intention was fully to drive readers insane with the duration of Rachel's silence (but not too long that they get bored and stop following the story), then blow everything up with one big meltdown! :D

adilamgp - Haha! Sorry for the cliffhanger, hope you enjoy this chapter too (:

LadyGender – Sorry, I'm not sure I understand you. What do you mean by 'break'?

Anon - I think, each time, Shelby will get through to Rachel more and more, but don't worry, I don't intend I repeat this numerous times. My style is to tell the first time in excruciating detail (like I did her previous nightmare) and leave my beloved readers to extrapolate the rest (: As for Quinn, I think it's easier to stand up to strangers than it is your own parents, and sometimes, it's easier to stand up for others than for yourself.

GreenLemons - Thanks! Quinn definitely was jumping to the wrong conclusions but you can't really blame her, given Rachel's fear and her highly suspicious behaviour. You're right that it reveals a bit of how traumatized she is. She might not be as thoroughly brainwashed as Rachel but because of her own experiences, she knows all too well how some parent can hurt their children, which is not a possibility that most children will consider so quickly. There will be more of their thoughts and the aftermath in this chapter and the chapters to come (:

alexelle - Yup, I'm glad you picked up on that (about Quinn's probably horrified reaction) even if she hadn't been featured much in the last chapter. After tonight, her view of Rachel is probably going to have to undergo some major changes.

shiniso - I love how despite how Rachel-centered the chapter was, you thought so much about Shelby and Quinn as well :D

bornthisway0201 - I'm glad, because it was meant to (: Hope you enjoy this chapter too.

monprincess - Haha, okay. Yep, the three of them are really such poor dears.

BellaDora Soulmates - Britt and San will take awhile longer but Rachel and Quinn will definitely be helping each other (:

KC1991 – Thanks! (:

Chapter 44. You said, "I'll never leave you alone."

Quinn was stunned. Shelby pulling her belt through her belt loops had frightened her and to her shame, had caused her to flinch and stumble back away from Shelby, one arm instinctively curled protectively around her lower abdomen. The sound had terrified her, reminded her far too much of that night with Russell, and for a bleak moment she had really though Shelby was going to hit them. But then, Shelby had thrown the belt far away instead of hitting either of them with it, and then Rachel had gone on this unbelievable rant that was so absurd except the frightened girl had obviously believed and meant every insane word of it…

'I can take a lot of punishment without moving away or making a sound, you could punish me as long as you like'... What the hell? Had Shelby hit her before? Why else would she be so scared of Shelby? And then it got weirder, with 'since Quinn is pregnant, if she makes you angry for any reason, I could take her punishment for her too'...

_No way, no way in hell._

That was the other thing that was odd. Rachel was talking about 'defer(ring) to her', and referring to Quinn and Shelby as 'two of you'. It didn't make sense. This was Rachel 's house and Rachel's mom, why was she yapping on and on as though she was some unwanted, unwelcomed guest about to be kicked out of the house soon?

And since Shelby seemed to have lost all powers of speech, maybe it was time Quinn spoke up. She grabbed the hand on her shoulder and spun around to face the smaller girl. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Okay, so it wasn't the most eloquent of openings but it was far better than anything Shelby had come up with so far.

Quinn's angry demand together with Rachel's desperate pleading, questioning eyes finally tripped something in Shelby's head, shocking her into regaining her ability to speak. To ask the more important question. "Why are you going to pack your things? You're not going anywhere."

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise, and for a second, she forgot to cry. She had expected her mother to hit her or to deny her request, but certainly not that.

"You… You said it was 'temporary', that we - Quinn and I - were going to share our room 'for the time being'. I... I don't know where else I can go but Ms Sharon can probably find somewhere, or I could just spend the night at the CPS office or the choir room..."

Light dawned on Quinn and she tugged at Rachel's hand, which she was still holding onto tightly. "Rachel!" she called out but Rachel's eyes remained fixed on her mother. So Quinn moved in front of her Rachel, to try and get her attention.

"I'm the temporary one, you moron," Quinn blurted out. "You're her daughter, her _real_ daughter, why the hell would she kick you out? If anyone is going to get kicked out, it's me, the damned foster kid!"

"But that's not what you meant, isn't it?" Quinn turned back to look at Shelby questioningly. "You meant that we were going to share her room until your office renovation is completed and you can move your boxes out of the guest room and prepare that room for me, right?"

Shelby nodded, although the way Quinn called herself 'temporary' made her cringe inside.

"Yes, yes of course. Quinn is right, it'll take me some time to get the guest room ready, so for the time being, the two of you will have to share a room. Once I've sound proofed my office, cleared the boxes from my guest room and finished furnishing it, Quinn can move in there, that's what I meant by Quinn sharing your room for the time being. Everything shouldn't take more than a week and in the meantime, no one is going anywhere."

"See? I'm the 'guest', you're her daughter, you aren't going anywhere."

"Neither are you, Quinn," Shelby felt the need to point out. "You're not going anywhere either, not until Sharon finds you somewhere more permanent anyway. No one is going to get kicked out, this house has more than enough rooms for all of us to stay quite comfortably in."

She was too far away to reach Rachel, especially with Quinn in between them, but Quinn, at least, was within reach. She reached out her hand to reassure the blond girl, but retracted it immediately when Quinn flinched, cowering away from Shelby, her eyes fixed on the hand stretched towards her.

Shelby sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you, either of you." But judging by the way Rachel was still staring fearfully at her, it was little surprise that in this moment, her words failed to inspire in Quinn any faith in her.

Quinn followed Shelby's gaze to where Rachel was standing, left arm curled protectively around herself. Quinn could only think of one reason why, and the imagined scenes in her head filled her with anger. If Shelby had hurt Rachel in any way, there was going to be hell to pay, and Quinn hadn't been kidding about reporting her to CPS.

No matter how outwardly kind or caring she was. It didn't matter if Shelby had a gentle touch, or smiled, or said all the right things, why was Rachel acting this way towards her, quite unlike her usual loud-mouthed and arrogant self? Surely she wouldn't be behaving this way without good reason. Had Shelby hit Rachel before? Why else would Rachel be so fearful of Shelby? Rachel's right hand felt cold and clammy in Quinn's grasp, and Quinn give it a small squeeze.

'I'll protect you,' she silently promised. 'For as long as I get to stay here, I'll protect you. She's not going to hurt you, not if I can help it.'

Rachel, of course, never heard the thoughts in Quinn's head, she seemingly hadn't even felt the squeeze either. Her eyes finished searching Shelby's and she seemed to have found something there, because when she spoke again, her voice was slightly steadier.

"You told Ms Sharon. I was waiting for the psychiatrist and I saw you talking to Ms Sharon in the next door room, and I heard what you told her. You said you didn't know what to do with me anymore, and then she told you about Quinn, and you agreed to take Quinn in. I thought... I mean... I thought you were going to trade me in for her. I guess no one would blame you for choosing her over me. She's so beautiful, she scored better grades than me last semester, and she can give you a baby. She can sing really well too, she's got a sweet feminine voice, and just needs some training to use it better and stay on pitch. Training which you can give her. She's so perfect, and in comparison, I'm so..." Rachel choked, the unbearable thought of being replaced temporarily paralyzing her vocal cords.

"That's when you overheard them talking about my father. And about my pregnancy," Quinn interrupted.

Rachel nodded miserably. "I heard what Mom said about me and I _had_ to keep listening. I needed to know what was going to happen to me, I didn't mean to hear about your secrets too... I'm sorry."

Quinn nodded and Rachel turned back to her mom. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping."

"No, _I_ am sorry you had to hear that, and I really wish you had come to me about this instead of worrying yourself like this. It isn't what you think, I didn't mean it that way. I was just telling Sharon that I felt out of my depth and inadequate at looking after you, that I didn't feel like I was a good enough mother for you. I've made so many mistakes with you, and I was just looking for some insight from her on how to do better, I didn't mean for you to overhear and misunderstand. "

"Misunderstand?" Rachel frowned. "You're going to keep me? You still want me?"

"I want you!" Shelby cried out. "Of course I want you. I'm never giving you up for anything in the world."

Shelby extended a hand out to Rachel, palm up, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. Rachel stared at it for a moment before releasing the hand that was holding onto Quinn's and laying her own small palm into her mother's hesitantly. She had no idea what was going to happen but she guessed that was what she was expected to do, and she had no intention of disobeying. To her surprise, Shelby pulled her close and wrapped her other arm around her daughter, drawing her into a tight embrace. Tears welled up in Rachel's eyes at the closeness to the warmth of her mother's body and she leaned into Shelby's bosom, clinging to her desperately as though afraid she would vanish in a moment.

"I'm sorry I'm so difficult," she whispered to her mom. "I'm sorry I keep giving you problems and made you want to adopt someone else instead. I'm really trying my best to be good, please don't give up on me."

"I know you are, honey, I know you are. I didn't take Quinn in because I didn't want you or because you gave me any problems, because you didn't. You've been perfectly obedient, almost too obedient. I took Quinn in because I loved you so much and I saw that she needed a mother too, a safe home to stay in. I should have explained it better, and I'm sorry I didn't."

"I keep saying we need to talk but I get caught up with everything that needs to be done and I never make time to listen to you, to allow you to clarify your doubts and fears and instead allow them to fester until… I need you to understand, you're my daughter and I'm _never_ kicking you out. I'm sorry for what I said to Sharon, for the misunderstanding that must have caused you so much mental torture. I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Mommy. I'm the one who did wrong, who made things difficult for you and made you feel frustrated for me." Rachel continued as she held on tightly to her Mom. "You're not inadequate, you know. You're the best mother a girl could ever hope for. You've done so much for me, more than I could ever repay you… You don't have to do anything else to look after me, Mommy, it's my job to do things for you since you feed me and clothe me and shelter me and provide me with everything I need. It's my job to live up to your expectations, to make myself the daughter you want me to be. It's my job to obey you, to help you do the chores, and to stay out of your way when you want me to. And if all you want from me is to talk to you, then I should have done that, I'll try to do that in future even if it's so strange… It's my job to be a good daughter, and it's my fault that I haven't, my fault that I've made so many mistakes and upset you so much."

"If you ever change your mind, Mommy, and ever want to hit me, please know it's okay to do it. I won't fight you or report you or blame you anything. I know it looked really painful when you saw my back that day, so you think it was really bad but it wasn't all bad to me. I know you still think it was abuse, but it wasn't, it really wasn't. I just make Dad so disappointed and angry with me sometimes, but once I'd been punished sufficiently, he wouldn't be so angry anymore and I could call him Dad again and everything would go back to normal. It felt good to be able to earn his forgiveness.

"You've been so unceasingly, impossibly kind and good to me, but you can't keep forgiving my forever, because everyone has their limits and sooner or later, you'll explode and I don't want you to explode. Please, Mommy, if you're ever angry with me, you can hit me too, really. I mean, not can, of course you can… I meant you _should_ hit me. You have every right to, and honestly, I'd really much rather you punish me and then forgive me than if you stayed angry at me. You keep forgiving me for everything, you've been super forgiving of everything I've done wrong so far but you don't have to, you know? You don't have to, you can't just keep forgiving like that, I need to earn it too. When you're angry, you don't have to keep it all inside, you should just vent your anger out on me. Make me hurt so I am properly sorry, and make me hurt until all your anger had been taken out on me, and after that, maybe you could forgive me and we could really start afresh. Please?"

"You don't have to worry about anyone finding out. You can ask Quinn, I know how to carry myself properly after a spanking. I did it all the time in the past, and I can do it again. No one will notice any difference in the way I walk, sing or even dance. She never suspected a thing in the past, and no one else did either. And you already know from Saturday that I know how to use makeup to cover up any visible bruises – no one ever noticed anything before and they won't notice anything now either. And with my long-sleeved and new jeans, you can hit me anywhere you want, no one would be able to see any of the marks at all. And I promise I won't get into any fights anymore, so I won't get found unconscious by the school nurse, and no one would find out either…"

"Please, Mommy, I know you said you're not going to kick me out now or punish me now either, but when you eventually do get angry enough to want to kick me out, please remember this conversation and give me a chance – punish me and let me show you how good I can be. I would do _anything_ for you, if you'd just let me stay with you. I really, really, _really_ just want to stay with you."

Shelby cried as she clung onto Rachel, smoothing her hair down. She'd allowed Rachel to say all that not just because she didn't know how to reply her daughter, but also because she thought Rachel might need to say it all out at least once, and she had promised to listen as long as Rachel would talk to her.

Perhaps it was enough that she had convinced Rachel she wasn't going to punish her or kick her out _now_, it was too much to expect that she could convince her daughter of forever as well. Still...

"Have you said all you wanted to say?" Shelby asked, lifting Rachel from her chest. Her hands still remained on Rachel's shoulders, although she didn't know who needed that contact more, herself or her daughter.

Rachel nodded and looked up at her mom. Shelby smiled in spite of herself. Rachel's expressive eyes spoke of so much love and affection that Shelby was momentarily stunned. Her daughter's seemingly boundless love for her, despite their history of years of separation, and her many failures in the past 2 weeks, never ceased to amaze her.

"Now it's my turn to speak, okay? I'm glad you've finally accepted that I'm not going to punish you or kick you out tonight. Quinn is an _addition_ to our household, I definitely did not take her in to replace you. You, Rachel, are my biological daughter, and you are irreplaceable to me. You are my flesh and blood, Rachel, I will _never_ abandon you. I will cling on tightly to you, even when you, like most teenagers tend to, eventually find me annoying and a pain.

"I plan to stick around for a very long time to come. When you are 20 and starring in your first Broadway show, I'll be there in the front row every night until you are embarrassed of me, and even then, I'll still come every night until you are sick of my face and beg me to not show up for just once. When you are 25 and getting married, I'll still be there annoying you with comments about your wedding dress and making unwanted tweaks to your seating arrangements. When you're 30 with children of your own, even when you're 60 with grandchildren, I will still be there, telling them embarrassing stories of their grandmother that makes you want to hide your face forever."

"I signed letters of temporary custody with CPS because that's as far as I can go in the adoption process at this point, but I fully intend to adopt you as soon as I possibly can, and once I get my hands on _those_ papers, Rachel, don't even think for one moment you can ever be rid of me. I'll be around in your life for as many years as God chooses to give me. I let you go once, almost fifteen years ago, and that was the biggest mistake of my life. I'll never ever let you go, ever again."

"And as for punishing you... I know it's hard for you to accept that I do things differently from your fathers. I know you hate to hear me say this, but the way they punished you wasn't right," Shelby suddenly realized that she still had an audience in the form of a wide-eyed Quinn. Despite Rachel's indiscretion with her eavesdropping, Rachel's secrets were still hers to reveal to Quinn when she wanted to, although after tonight and especially after Rachel's tearful, desperate pleadings, Quinn must have at least guessed most, if not all of it.

"I have different ways of punishments, like essays and chores. That was the way I was brought up, my parents never ever beat me, and if they ever spanked me, it was with their hand and nothing more. That's the way I was raised, and that's the way I intend to bring you up too. So when you do something wrong, and I just scold you or assign you an essay, please know that you're indeed forgiven, and that's all the punishment you're going to get. Like that day with the essay, or when I scolded you about…" she paused trying to remember an occasion she had actually scolded Rachel.

"Like when I spoke to you about doing chores behind my back or forcing yourself to finish your dinner even though you were so full you wanted to vomit," she decided. None of them had really been actual scoldings, but it wasn't exactly her fault Rachel hadn't actually done anything naughty enough to earn any scolding from her. Shelby almost couldn't wait for Rachel to relax herself enough around her to get mischievous and therefore scolded without fear of anything worse.

"… Or when I didn't tell you I didn't need to rest in my room all the time and you lectured me about the importance of communication?" Rachel suggested.

Shelby smiled despite herself, the added meaning not lost on her. "Yes, that too."

"I was not waiting until after your medical appointments to hit you, and it is certainly not that I've given up on you. As long as you admit your errors, you're sorry and you accept your punishment graciously, then that's the end of it, I would always forgive you and everything will go back to normal. There is no such thing as you earning my forgiveness or love by 'allowing' me to punish you. There is nothing you can do that I can't forgive, and even when I'm angry at you, please know that I will always still be loving you. There is no earning _back_ of my love, because nothing you can possibly do would make me love you any less. Okay?"

Rachel nodded, even though her mother's words were so overwhelming that she could hardly wrap her head around it. She wasn't really nodding because she believed it but more because… because she wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe that her mother meant this, but even if she couldn't really deal with all of that now, for now it was enough that she believed that her mother was not kicking her out or hitting her, and she was going to stay, going to be adopted in 3 months and even if her fathers hated her and never spoke to her again, or worse, ended up in jail because of her, at least she knew she would always have a home with her mom.

Beside them, Quinn tried not to stare at the mother and daughter pair as tears of jealousy threatened to spill out of her eyes. She blinked furiously, refusing to allow them to fall. She wasn't jealous – she wasn't! She'd seen Maribel hug Santana dozens of times before, this was just like that. There was nothing to be jealous of here.


	47. Twelve days

demisparks – I'm sorry? Heh. Thank you for that compliment. This chapter will be more Quinn-centric, hope you enjoy it too (:

applebox123 – Thanks (:

JWilson18 – Shelby is, but she won't be alone in trying to get through to Rachel (: They all do need major therapy but just getting them there will have quite a few obstacles.

Guest – Yes. I prefer telling the story and letting my readers interpret it to explaining it and trying to cage it up in just one POV but I'll try my best: Maybe if she was a normal girl like Brittany, she would altruistically be thinking of Rachel's revelations first, but she isn't. Just a few minutes ago, she was afraid of Shelby hitting Rachel and herself, and when she figured out Rachel's screwed up thoughts, she helped resolve the misunderstanding between Rachel and Shelby. Yet, at the end of the day, she is left on her own, watching as mother and daughter comfort each other, her previous help revealed to be unnecessary and her presence ignored. In addition, her recent trauma with Russell, and the way Judy just stood there and watched, allowing everything to happen, it's all still very fresh in her mind, and contrasting that cold-hearted, mean-spirited Judy with this loving, caring Shelby is very painful for her. Does that make sense to you? If it doesn't, some of the other reviews to that last chapter explained it very well too (:

Em – Yup, it's about time indeed. Rachel's dads will return but much later on (more than 10 chapters away). I want to give her time to change a little first, so that when they do return to the story, the Rachel they're faced with is slightly different.

You-Know-Who-I-Is – It was hard for me to write it to, and I'm glad to have resolved it somewhat.

gogolac – Her parents started being sexually abusive a year or so ago, but they have been physically abusive for a much longer time than that. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this. I think both Quinn's previous bullying and her newfound protectiveness of Rachel reveal parts of who she is. She is changing, however, and this is part of that change, as she moves away from the influence of her parents and transforms into a better Quinn.

ajunebuga – Yes, much of that will be revealed in this chapter (:

lemon-rind – I'm impressed, you've described Quinn's current situation very well, covering most of the points I was trying to make (:

NZgleek91 – Quinn does need some hugs. Whether she gets them, though, is another matter. She's like a porcupine, and it's going to take time and a lot more TLC for her to be vulnerable enough to show her soft side.

Agrosk – Thanks! No, Quinn and Rachel will not be together at the end in a romantic way. I'm sorry if that was what you were looking for.

Alese222 – If talking is what you're looking for, you should be happy because there's plenty of talking coming right up (:

Shana – I'm glad you feel sorry for Quinn, and I do confess that I had meant for you to feel sorry for her. Rachel, for all her brainwashed-ness, talks a lot and with Shelby around, many of her issues can be resolved quite easily, especially when the issues are baseless in the first place. Quinn's are more complicated and much harder to solve ): Much as she needs love, she doesn't trust easily, isn't as trusting as Rachel is, and loving her is going to be a lot harder. As to your question, yes, Quinn has one more day off school, although I'm not revealing what's going to happen yet (:

Anon – Thanks. Shelby did great in the end after she got over her initial speechless shock. As for Quinn, she certainly needs a hug, but I'm not sure if she will accept one so easily…

Guest – Quinn and Rachel do a lot of talking (and more) in this chapter, hope you enjoy it (:

Lissi – Quinn will be back at school on Wednesday (story time) and in terms of the story, tentatively Chapter 50. This story is quite a slow one, I'm sorry, but from Chapter 50 onwards, it should speed up a little.

Guest – She does deserve one, but I guess people don't always get what they deserve… or want what they deserve.

KC1991 – Thanks! Confrontation will certainly happen in this chapter, although how reassured Quinn feels is still up for debate.

CarmellaD'Winter – I'm sorry to hear about your intimacy issues with your own mum. I think Shelby has to understand (or will soon learn to understand) that one occasion will not change Rachel's perspective completely, no matter how many hugs and kisses get thrown in. Real life just doesn't work that way. But slowly, with each passing day, Shelby's love for Rachel will make a difference to her. And to Quinn too. Why do you think something bad is going to happen now?

olacindy – It's not that simple, and my answer would be both. She understands Rachel, perhaps even more than Shelby does. She understands her fear, her desperation, her craving for a mother's love, because she experiences all these too. But it's because she has these same emotions as Rachel but is deprived of a loving mother that she is also jealous of Rachel who has what she so greatly desires, deserves, but was denied by Judy.

Rini – Yay! Haha XD I recognise my own propensity to weave complicated webs of facades and deceit that I myself sometimes get tangled up in as well, so I'll try to give simple solutions when I can. Quinn gets quite a bit off her chest in this chapter, hope you enjoy it (: Quinn's parents are absolute assholes, as Santana would say, but she has had someone growing up, and more about her will be revealed in due time (:

monprincess – Yes, she is. Thanks!

renata – Good to know (: I feel like Quinn handled the situation best of all, and kind of mediated the situation between a silent shell-shocked Shelby and a desperately babbling Rachel. Of the three, she was the one who actually pointed out where each other's blind spot was, the most important step towards resolving the misunderstanding. As for your question about Brittany, she will be in this story, but will not have as big a role as these three. Probably a smaller role than Santana too.

HannahWilliam33 – Thanks (: Poor Quinn, indeed.

SA03 – Haha, I think that was the point. Although everyone knows that Quinn is present, when Shelby and Rachel hug and Shelby showers Rachel with TLC, I don't want my readers to just go 'awww'. I want them to remember that Quinn is still there, that nothing is ever picture perfect here. Flawed human beings in terrible situations, but they're all really trying their best (:

GreenLemons – Thank you! For recognising that as much as Quinn needs a hug now, I can't give it to her because she just won't accept one from either Rachel or Shelby, at least not yet, anyway.

shiniso – You're welcome. Yes, Shelby is starting to figure out that if she doesn't let Rachel say all she wants to first, that girl is not going to listen to anything she has to say. Besides, after so much silence from her daughter, I bet it was a relief – however horrifying – to finally hear what was wrong. I'm hoping to never have to write another repeat of 'Rachel's theater of insane and horrific punishment offers'. Even if it would probably happen again the next time Rachel does something wrong, describing it once is enough, I think. Like with her nightmares, I described those rather vividly once and the next time they occur, I'll leave those to your imagination. As for Quinn, I'm sorry it was heart-wrenching. As I was writing the Shelby/Rachel scene, I thought that there was no way Quinn would be watching them and feeling anything but heartache. Even if it's completely unintentional on Shelby's part, it is what it is ):

Chapter 45. Twelve Days

Quinn tried not to stare at the mother and daughter pair as tears of jealousy threatened to spill out of her eyes. She blinked furiously, refusing to allow them to fall. She wasn't jealous – she wasn't! She'd seen Maribel hug Santana dozens of times before, this was just like that. There was nothing to be jealous of here.

She forced herself to look away and focus instead, on the many words that had been said. She knew Shelby had stopped herself at the last minute from revealing more about Rachel and her fathers, but their words were more revealing than they both had thought.

Someone had hurt Rachel before, and badly so, that much was obvious. Quinn was also starting to suspect that Rachel's ban on dancing was not solely due to the Karofsky-Adams beating too. The most likely candidates were "Dad" and "Daddy" whom Rachel had already admitted had "punished" her "all the time"… they obviously had not been as nice and loving as Rachel had always made them out to be.

Quinn wondered why on earth Rachel would lie about their treatment of her. She could understand staying silent about it – Quinn herself had kept mum about many things that Russell had done to her, but outright lying to everyone that her fathers loved her and doted on her? And defending them to the point of taking a beating from Karofsky and Azimio? She had no answers for her questions, however, and decided to chalk up Rachel's previous staunch defense of her fathers as yet another Rachel Berry quirk – Somehow, Rachel seemed determined to defend every person who had ever hurt her.

If her fathers had indeed hurt her, maybe even abused her, the CPS charges might not have been entirely bogus… that alone helped ease some of Quinn's guilt about the series of events her Slushy Fest had led to. However, it still didn't explain why Rachel was so afraid of Shelby, and what would possess her to promise all those crazy things to her. Unless Shelby had hurt Rachel as well? Honestly, it wouldn't have been that hard. For a while back then, Rachel had been practically begging her mom to hit her and promising to never tell anyone no matter how much her mom hurt her.

Quinn ran through Rachel's words in her head and cringed inside. Rachel's promise to "do _anything_ for" Shelby sounded a lot like what Quinn had often had to do for her father to avoid getting beaten. Except that Rachel hadn't been begging for leniency like Quinn would have had been. No, she wasn't just expecting a punishment and trying her best to avoid it, or lessen it, it had been the exact opposite. She had been practically begging _for_ the punishment. Beneath those painful words, Quinn realized that what Rachel was truly begging for, was for her mother's love and forgiveness. And the way she did was to try to prove her obedience and submission. She couldn't fathom what could possibly have possessed her to beg for such a thing but one thing was clear, Shelby had done _something_ to Rachel before. What she had just seen was not the product of any kind of normal mother-daughter relationship, and that kind of extreme fear that Rachel had just displayed stemmed from some seriously deep-rooted trauma.

Quinn frowned and shook her head, asking herself why she was thinking so much about Rachel. What her fathers were like was none of her business, and as for Shelby… well, she only cared about what Shelby might have done to Rachel because it might affect how she, Quinn, was treated too, since they were all living under one roof now. She certainly didn't give a crap about the midget and whatever crappy past she might have had. Quinn had enough of her own shitty past to deal with.

She didn't care, she reminded herself, even as she watched Rachel sob into Shelby's bosom uninhibitedly, feeling oddly envious. It had been a long time since Quinn had been able to be this uninhibited around someone, anyone.

She looked away again, the emotional scene a little too much for her to handle. Besides, she had other things to worry about. While Rachel may have done little more than to accidentally drop her dinner on the floor, she, Quinn, had practically attacked and then yelled at her foster mother. Mistakenly, of course, but would Shelby see it that way? Quinn wasn't Shelby's 'real daughter' like Rachel was, surely Shelby wasn't going to be as forgiving towards her rudeness.

She replayed Rachel's extreme fear reaction towards Shelby once more in her head. Maybe Shelby was some psycho who abused Rachel some days and showed her affection the next? Judy had been that way for a while, verbally abusive on some days and sweet and caring on others, almost as though she wanted to make up for the bad days. That had been in the early days of her alcoholism, before too much alcohol sucked all the emotions out of her, and turned her into an unfeeling zombie. In some ways, though, the later unfeeling monster had been easier to contend with than the earlier psycho. At least it was consistent. She did not have to wonder everyday which version of her mother she would be getting, did not have to constantly get her hopes on, only to have them crushed into pulp again.

"Quinn? Are you okay?" Rachel asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

Quinn blinked. She hadn't realized she had zoned out completely. Rachel and Shelby weren't hugging anymore, they were both looking at her now, albeit with red-rimmed eyes. "Yes?"

"Are you okay? You looked like you were deep in thought about something."

"I'm fine," Quinn replied quickly. "Are _you_ okay?"

Rachel nodded. "I'm fine. I'm sorry about uh, what happened just now. I didn't mean to lose control of myself like that."

Quinn shrugged. What else could she say?

"Mom was asking if you wanted to order in pizza because all this commotion caused your dinners to get cold. I'm not really hungry anymore and I still have my protein shake but Mom said I should try and eat a bit more." Rachel left out the part where she had tried to reason that she neither needed nor deserved to eat after she had ruined all their dinners with this stupid mental breakdown of hers. "She's trying to decide what size of pizza to order. Are you still hungry? You have to be, right, you're pregnant and eating for two persons. We could order half-half so you don't have to eat anything vegetarian. The baby probably needs meat to grow, right?"

Quinn was starting to realize that Rachel tended to ramble on and on when she was nervous. That realization made her rambling slightly less irritating.

"Any kind of pizza is fine, but I'm not too hungry either," she replied, turning to look at Shelby. Shelby felt Quinn's eyes search her own for something. She didn't know what but she allowed her to do so anyway. She studied Quinn's face in turn, but besides worry, she couldn't tell what she was thinking. Quinn was a lot more guarded with her emotions than Rachel, making her much harder to read.

"I'm sorry, Shelby," Quinn finally said, keeping her face as neutral as possible. She still wasn't completely sure if Shelby had hit Rachel before, but she could at least tell she wasn't going to hit her _tonight_. So hopefully, Quinn could get away with her rudeness too? Shelby had said last night that she wouldn't be so forgiving if Quinn was rude to her again, but she had later mentioned to Rachel that she normally punished with chores or essays, and both options didn't sound too bad. The former was what she was used to with Maribel, and the latter ought to be easy enough considering English was one of her strongest subjects.

"I'm sorry," Quinn repeated, keeping her voice steady and her stance as firm as possible. She wasn't scared of Shelby, she _wasn't_. "I'm sorry I was rude to you just now, when I yelled at you."

Shelby blinked, trying to recall when Quinn had yelled at her. The girl had been largely silent for the past few minutes...

_"Don't you dare touch her! If I dared to report my own parents to the authorities, I certainly would have no qualms about reporting you. And if that is not enough, I'll tell Rachel's fathers, who would definitely object to you mistreating their daughter while she's temporarily under your care!... Don't play stupid with me, I'm not as gullible as Rachel, I'm not going to believe your bullshit! I'm not fucking blind, I've got eyes to see for myself, and what I've seen since yesterday is that she's scared all the time when she's around you and she's constantly looking at you warily, especially when she's talking, as though to check if her words are okay. And she's Rachel freaking Berry, she has never been afraid to speak her mind, she stands up to huge ass footballers even if it gets her beaten up, so what was it that you did to her? What the hell did you do to her to rob of her voice, to make her so damn scared of you, to turn her into this cowering, apologizing person I don't even think I recognize anymore?"_

Oh! Right.

"Don't worry about it. I understand you thought I was going to hurt Rachel and you were just trying to defend her. Thank you for that, by the way, it's nice to know that she's got someone looking out for her." She recalled how Rachel had used make up to cover up the bruise Shelby had left on her arm, and she found herself appreciating that at least this feisty girl wasn't going to allow Shelby to get away with anything like that. "I promise you, if I ever mistreat you or Rachel, I would fully expect and hope that you would report me. I never want to hurt either of you and not just that, I don't intend to do anything to either of you that I wouldn't want others to know."

Quinn stared at her, not quite understanding. "You said yesterday..."

"I don't usually tolerate teenagers yelling at me, especially since I told you just yesterday to cut out the rudeness, and I still do think you need to control your use of words, but I think, for tonight, I'll just let it slide this once. Honestly, I hadn't thought about it until you mentioned it. So much more has happened tonight, and I was more impressed that you were willing to put yourself in between Rachel and I, when you thought I was going to hurt her." She almost smiled at Quinn's incredulous look. "I'm not angry about the yelling, you get a free pass tonight, okay?"

Quinn blinked owlishly at her before shrugging. "Whatever," Quinn said shortly, recovering quickly from her surprise, although she was also secretly very relieved. And slightly confused. With an attitude like that, Shelby couldn't be as mean or violent as Rachel seemed to think she was, right?

"So, pizza. Rachel is fine with all kinds of vegetables, but are there any you can't stand? I remember when I was pregnant with her, I couldn't stand the sight, smell or taste of pineapples."

Quinn smiled despite herself. "Pickles. No pickles please. Anything else is fine, really."

"Okay. Now you two girls go upstairs to wash up, I'll call you down when the pizza arrives, okay?"

…

"Has she hit you before?" Quinn demanded as soon as the room door was closed, ensuring that Shelby was out of earshot.

Rachel shook her head. "I've given her plenty of reasons before, but she hasn't, not yet."

"Good." Quinn paused. "Wait... 'yet'? So you think she will hit you sometime soon? Why do you think that? Did she say she would do it?"

"No she didn't. But she should. I don't know why she hasn't."

Quinn scowled at her. "She loves you."

"I didn't say she didn't. I love her too. That's why I need her to punish me," Rachel replied, wringing her hands a little. "Don't you get it? If she doesn't start punishing me for all my mistakes, very soon it'll all boil over and when she can't stand me anymore, she'll just kick me out. But if she's willing to punish me, then I could pay for my mistakes that way, and maybe then I could stay here forever. I really like it here and my fathers, they… they threw me out. So I've got nowhere else to go besides here."

Rachel turned her teary pleading eyes towards Quinn, as though silently begging her to return her mom. Quinn stared, unsure of what to do. She considered the forlorn girl standing in front of her. She looked thoroughly confused, nothing like her usual loud-mouthed, arrogant self.

"Your fathers used to hit you, right?" she asked at last. Even though it went against everything Rachel had told her, had told everyone for the past few years, she was by now, pretty certain that that, at the very least, was true.

Rachel nodded. "Only when I was bad." She lifted the back of her shirt slightly, startling Quinn with her action.

"You don't have to..." Quinn began but froze when she saw the black and blue bruising, multiple bandages, and the faint hints of healing blisters and welts that decorated the younger girl's back.

She calculated quickly - the night her father had come home gloating about Rachel's fathers being reported to CPS had been a Thursday, which was 11 days ago. This had to be Shelby's work then, there was no way this much damage could have been done by her fathers. Quinn's own welts were already healing much better than that after only 3 days, and would probably all be healed in another 3 days' time, leaving no marks whatsoever.

Screw what Rachel had said, there was no way anything her fathers had done 11 days ago could still look this bad, this had to be the work of Shelby.

"I'm going to _kill_ her," Quinn muttered under her breath, making for the door. Rachel dropped the hem of her shirt and spun around, only managing to catch the back of Quinn's blouse just in time, stopping her in her tracks.

Rachel rushed to plant herself between Quinn and the door, so Quinn could not get out. Her hands wrapped around the door knob behind her for extra security. "It wasn't her, it was my fathers. Really. And I was bad, so I deserved the punishment. It's healing very well already, and it will be recovered soon enough."

"But it has to have been 11 days..."

"12," Rachel corrected. "It's been 12 days since my last punishment. Unless you count the fight on Friday with Karofsky." Rachel paused, wondering why she was telling Quinn all this. She'd thought Quinn would understand, given what had happened to her too. "It really was them, not Shelby, and it isn't as bad as it looks. It wasn't all from one punishment. I was... I just had been really bad, that's all. So Dad had to punish me many times, which meant the beatings overlapped and the accumulation of punishments made the result look worse than each individual punishment actually was. But the cuts are no longer infected and everything is healing well, and the bandages can come off this Saturday…"

Quinn looked incredulously at Rachel. Multiple beatings that overlapped on each other? Cuts that were bad enough to get _infected_? How the hell was she _still_ defending her fathers?

"So Shelby has not added to any of it? She hasn't hit you in these past… 12 days?"

Rachel shook her head rapidly.

"Liar," Quinn accused. "Didn't you say something just now about covering up bruises on Saturday?"

"That was just an accident! She didn't hit me, and she hasn't hit me at all since I've been here. You saw how she was just now, I broke a plate and dropped my entire meal and utensils on the floor, and caused all of your dinners to get cold by my stupid outburst, but she didn't even slap me, she's even going to order in pizza so we can eat dinner again… She never starves me and always makes sure I eat until I'm full, until I'm really full. She's been really nice to me, she hasn't hit me at all. Really. I've given her plenty of reasons to punish me, but she's thus far steadfastly refused to. I don't understand why, though. Your father hit you too, right? Don't all parents punish bad behaviour?"

Quinn stared at her. "I'm not showing you mine, but it looks way better than yours. Even then, it was still child abuse, and I'm going to make damn sure he stays in jail _forever_ for what he did to me. What your fathers did to you, to your back, even if all I got was a small glimpse of it, that's just sick."

"It isn't!" Rachel protested. "It's just punishment, nothing more than that. It wasn't his fault he had to punish me so much, I was the one who did all those mistakes and earned all those beatings. I'm sick and tired of everyone blaming my dads for everything. It was me, I was the one who screwed up, I did this to myself, I deserved this."

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Quinn yelled angrily. Where the hell was that arrogant diva, this self-blaming broken girl spewing out all these moronic lies couldn't possibly be her. There was no way _the_ Rachel Barbra Berry would say things like that, allow her supposedly loving fathers to hit her and still think she deserved such cruel punishment marks. "Your skin is all bruised and welted and I'm assuming whatever is under those bandages looks even worse. That is way too severe, beyond any normal kind of punishment. You can't possibly think you deserved that, no matter what 'mistakes' you made!"

By now, Rachel had backed away in fear and was currently pressed right up against the door but her right hand remained on the door knob, not allowing Quinn to open the door. Quinn shook her head and took a step back, her voice softening a little. "Get your damned back off that door. I'm not going to hurt you," she muttered under her breath.

Rachel nodded but moved forward slightly. "The blisters and welts under the bandages aren't all that bad, but Mom insists on covering them with gauze even though they are almost completely healed. My bum looks much worse than my back but I'm not showing you that either. It's just what happens with my fathers, that's all. Different parents have different ways of disciplining their kids, right? Dad is _not_ sick, he's just stricter than most parents, but that's because he loves me and has high expectations of me. And it's worked out well, hasn't it? I turned out pretty okay. It can't be child abuse if I don't _feel_ abused, right?"

Quinn didn't want to imagine what could look "much worse" than what she had just seen. She felt like an idiot for believing Rachel every time she had declared how much her fathers loved her. In her books, anyone who did that to someone, even someone as annoying as Rachel Berry was a bastard. How could she ever have been jealous of Rachel?

Rachel was still looking at her expectantly, as though judging to see if she was going to continue her flight out of the room to confront Shelby. Quinn sighed and took another step back, hoping to seem less threatening.

"Shelby doesn't look like she's like that. She seems to really care for you."

Rachel nodded. "I know. That's what makes it so hard. I don't know how to pay for my mistakes if she doesn't punish me. And she's got to have a limit, right, everyone has. I don't know what is going to happen when she just can't tolerate me any longer. I know I'm not an easy person to hang out with, much less live with. Even at school, and in Glee, everyone finds me noisy, stubborn and annoying. Don't deny it, you know I'm right, one text from you was all it took to get everyone to join in and throw slushies at me. But she's my mom, it has to be so much worse for her to have to live with me. If she won't even punish me for all my mistakes, then when she reaches her limit, the only other alternative would be to kick me out and I don't know what I'd do if that happens."

She looked back at Quinn. "Isn't there anywhere else you could go? I know it's a lot to ask, and I don't know what I could give you in exchange but... I really love my mom. I would do _anything_ to keep living with her. Or maybe, if she ever decides to make the choice of you over me, couldn't you tell her you wanted me to stay on too? Please don't tell her you hate me, otherwise it would probable further cement her desire to throw me out. You could say it's useful having me around to do your chores or tidy the room for you or something. I mean, clearly she would choose you but maybe we could both stay. I'll give you anything you want, do anything for you, if you can get her to keep me too."

"Don't be an ass," Quinn scolded bluntly. "She's never going to kick you out. She loves you too much to do that. Like I said, you're her birth daughter. If she 'keeps' anyone, it'll be you, okay?"

She paused and sighed. Rachel's request was so pathetic that she couldn't help but want to reassure her. "But if it makes you feel better, if she ever wants to kick you out, I'll ask her to send me away and let you stay instead, okay?"

Rachel smiled. "Thank you so much, Quinn, really. And I'll try my best to make sure she doesn't send you away either."

"Girls, the pizza is here," Shelby called out from downstairs.

"Yes, Mom, we're coming," Rachel replied. She turned to Quinn anxiously. "You aren't going to 'kill' my mom anymore, right? She really hasn't done anything to me at all."

Quinn studied Rachel's face for a moment. "No, I'm not going to confront her about any of that, at least for now. And if she hasn't done anything to you, then she has nothing to worry about from me."

In her head, she tried to convince herself that she wasn't really being protective of Rachel. This was as much for her own safety as for Rachel's. After all, if Shelby had actually hurt Rachel, who was her own flesh and blood, for any reason at all, what might she do to Quinn?

…

Their second dinner that night was quiet, much quieter than their first.

Shelby asked if Quinn wanted to go for a sleepover with Brittany and Santana that weekend, asked the both of them about school and what their schedules were like, and generally kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation. Quinn and Rachel were both grateful for the distraction but neither of them said much, too lost in their own thoughts.

The only awkward moment came when Rachel asked if Shelby was going to kiss them both good night that night.

"You noticed last night," Shelby replied uncomfortably.

Rachel nodded. "You've been kissing me good night every night, even when we were at the hospital. But you didn't last night and I thought…" she raised a shoulder and then dropped it in a half-shrug. It was obvious to both Quinn and Shelby what she had thought anyway.

"I'm sorry about that," Shelby apologized sincerely. "Giving you that mistaken idea was never my intention. I just thought that Quinn might mind either way - if I kissed her good night too, or if I only kissed you good night and not her - and so I wanted to ask her first." She turned to Quinn. "Speaking of which, do you mind?"

Quinn's eyes dropped down to the slice of pizza in her hand. Mind what? Mind watching Shelby kiss Rachel good night? Mind a goodnight kiss for herself? Or mind the things that happened after the kiss? She made a mental note to find out how much Rachel had really found out about her when she was eavesdropping.

She must have taken too long to answer, because Rachel's hand snuck across the table and grasped hers. "Mom won't hurt you. I promise."

Quinn sighed. "I don't mind if you kiss me. Or if you don't," she replied quietly. "Rachel shouldn't be made to feel insecure just because I'm here."

"Your feelings matter too, Quinn."

"I don't mind them," she repeated. "Really."


	48. Tomorrow's another day

JWilson18 - You're welcome (: And yes, while things are starting to calm down after that storm, the girls returning to school will bring with it its share of drama :D Any guesses what?

Em - I have my reasons for not writing Faberry. Besides, I feel like this site is sorely lacking in stories which do not have romance in them.

Alese222 – 'Almost everything' is right, because they will still be talking more tomorrow. The girls are just honestly exhausted right now, they need a good night's sleep first, and time to process everything that's happened and every word that has been said tonight. So, no sleepover yet, but it's coming in later chapters, I promise. The next few chapters will be calmer with more character rather than plot development (no gasping, I'm sorry), but there will definitely be new drama every few chapters. Too much drama is exhausting and I feel it's wasted if I don't also take the time to explain how each new dramatic events affects and changes them. The day-to-day recovery is just as important to the girls as the explosive events like this dinner scene. As for psychiatry, Quinn and Rachel both do not understand many things, and Shelby's got a heck of a job helping them with that (:

Agrosk - As of now, Quinn intends to stay with the baby. Also, both girls will be able to overcome their trauma, to varying extents. It's interesting you only mentioned Rachel, because she's the one who actually doesn't even think she's gone through any trauma that she needs to overcome

CarmellaD'Winter - Rachel is one stubborn little creature, and Quinn is one closed-up little girl. As for pedophilia or Rachel thinking "it's not abuse if I don't feel abused", it is the adults' responsibility to teach children right from wrong. Otherwise, you can brainwash children to do just about anything (think: Child prostitutes who think pleasuring customers for food is okay, child soldiers who kill people without blinking because they don't even understand what death is). Maybe if a child is raised right (which brings up queries on the definition of being raised right), and the consent is fully informed (perhaps in an older teenager, but definitely not in a small child), it could possibly be consensual, but that would have to be considered on a case-by-case basis, there are too many grey areas and too many ways to play the system if such actions were to be legalised.

BellaDora Soulmates - Haha, I always think that even in canon, Quinn is the biggest denier of any kind of emotions, especially those that might make her seem weak.

Shana - Haha! She would deserve to be smacked too. I'm glad you recognised where I got her insensitivity from. Not all her flaws are because of her fathers, some of which are completely her own. But her insensitivity and brutal honesty, I feel, is endearing in its own way, and would be refreshing for Quinn after all the hidden agendas and manipulativeness that defined the Fabrays. As for Quinn, she'll definitely open up to Maribel more than to Shelby for now, but with time, she'll get more comfortable with Shelby. She just needs all these little (daily) and big (explosive dinner) moments to observe Shelby first and learn to trust her. She's definitely not as trusting and open as Rachel.

Rini - Yes, Rachel talks a lot, whereas Quinn doesn't talk. But Quinn listens and observes and absorbs, and that will help her too. I wanted to show different roads to recovery - not every traumatised child needs to talk everything to death, and nothing would be accomplished with such a 'one size fits all' approach. That said, Quinn's reclusiveness does come with its own problems, which will make themselves known in due time (unlike Rachel's explosive meltdowns which is arguably easier to deal with).

olacindy - Her walls will slowly be gradually lowered, but in a much more controlled manner. Quinn is definitely not one to allow her walls to just "crumble" :D As for porcupine, I'm glad you get it - spiky, dangerous outer covering that will hurt you if you come too close, but if you earn her trust, she'll reveal her soft under belly, that her spikes were just trying to protect. They are both learning much about each other in the mean time, seeing new sides to each other, and trying to figure out what all these means to their relationship dynamic.

Anon - Yes, she does mind more than she cares to admit. However, she also thinks of herself as of a lower status than Rachel, and so she expects Shelby to treat her differently from Rachel, which becomes somewhat of a self-fulfilling prophecy in her case. (She expects to be treated as an outsider, and her aloof behaviour then makes her an actual outsider.)

primadonna101 - Okay? Haha.

NZgleek91 - That's great. Yes, Quinn is quite mama bear about anything that hints of abuse. Remember when Quinn thought about her baby earlier and likened her baby to Rachel, wondering if others will bully her baby due to his/her dysfunctional parental status, just like how Quinn had bullied Rachel for having two gay dads.

monprincess - A long long time from now, heh. I think Shelby would be over the moon if Rachel would just accept that her mother would not practise the same punishment methods as her fathers had, and that is definitely a step she would have to take eventually before she gets to a point when she realises that her fathers had abused her. The cycle of abuse you described is the reason why abused children need to be made to understand that what they went through was wrong (just because they didn't "feel abused" doesn't mean they weren't), and why people like Shelby and Sharon are so important to help break this cycle.

SA03 - Sorry for the confusion. Quinn was confused, and I wanted to bring that out, but apparently, I confused my readers too. I've edited it, hope it's clearer now.

KC1991 - Thanks (:

shiniso - Haha! They sure are stubborn. But that stubbornness also makes them determined, competitive over-achievers, and they'll make it good eventually. Even if I doubt this story will get that far, I envision these two girls still making it to Yale and (so-called) NYADA eventually (:

ArmadilloPretzels - Thanks (:

Future -Styles - When Santana is going to find out about what? Quinn living with Rachel?

GreenLemons - "In a way" is right. In the other way, Rachel's behaviour just shows how brainwashed she is, and her trusting nature was completely twisted, made use of, and turned agaist her to allow the abuse to go on for far too long. Maybe if she knew it was wrong, she would have gotten out a lot sooner. And while in the short term, she might feel better than Quinn, her confusion at the disparity between her mother and her fathers is starting to show, and in the long run, she will have to overcome the brainwashing in order to truly recover. And she will have to steer clear of people like her fathers otherwise she (or people like her) are very likely to fall for abusive partners who remind her of her fathers, or arguably worse, themselves become the abusive one towards their own children. But yes, in a way, she's better off now, more able to accept love and comfort and hugs, unlike Quinn. You hit the nail on the head when you said that the thing Quinn craves the most is also what she's most afraid of. That's what's so terrible about child abuse.

1moredreamer – Thanks! I actually can't find the questions, just one, and to answer that, yes, someone from Shelby's family will appear in the future. Any guesses who? :D As for Quinn, she is certainly a better keeper of secrets than Rachel (:

Greenturtle – Wow, 7! I'm not sure if I've read some of my chapters 7 times, lol. The rape scene was a particularly difficult one to write. It turned out very clinical, which some readers lauded it for showing how Quinn was trying to detach herself from what was happening to her, but honestly, I wrote it that way because it was the only way I knew how to write it. Thanks (:

Emerald Stag – Thanks! I'm glad you've enjoyed it the story so far. Hope you continue to follow it (: As for Quinn, Rachel does bring out certain sides of her that were previously unknown, and the more time she spends with Rachel, she will also see more sides to her, and slowly be able to look beyond the 'short, loud, attention-seeking Jewish girl with two gay dads' label.

**A/N. I realised from the reviews that I wasn't really clear in my last scene (goodnight kisses, second dinner) in the previous chapter, so I've edited it. Do go back to take a look at it if it wasn't clear to you the first time. Sorry for the lack of clarity!**

Chapter 46. Tomorrow's another day

"Rachel? Are you still awake?"

"Yes," Rachel replied, sitting up in bed to face Quinn. "What's the matter?"

"Was it true, what you said just now? About how you had managed to hide it from everyone everyday…"

"It?"

"You know, that you had been hurt. Whatever it was that your fathers did to you…"

"Yes. And it wasn't a big deal, really."

"I saw the result with my own eyes, and trust me, it was a big deal."

Rachel fell silent, unsure of what to say to that.

"How could you be so casual about showing that to me anyway? I can't imagine you have been all that indiscrete to go about showing that to anyone, otherwise I'm pretty someone would have said something about it a long time ago."

"You live with us now. I guess I figured you would get to see me get hit sometime… sooner or later… when I screw up with something and Mom punishes me…" her voice trailed off into a sigh.

"You've got to stop that," Quinn scolded her. "Seriously."

"Stop what?"

"Stop thinking badly about your mother. You even had me convinced she was some evil witch about to beat the crap out of you but she isn't. Didn't you hear what I said just now? She loves you."

"I know she does. That doesn't mean she won't punish me when I get in trouble. When you love someone, you want what's best for them, and you discipline them when they step out of line."

"Discipline, maybe. Not kick them out of your house or beat them up. You know, you really hurt her feelings when you assumed she would… when you suggested that."

Rachel startled. "She was?"

"Yes. But you were too obsessed with your own little rant to notice."

"Oh..."

"Just tell her you're sorry. And don't say those stuff to her again. Maybe you could even hug her and tell her you love her or something. She looks like she would go for that kind of thing."

Rachel nodded thoughtfully but remained silent.

"You know what, Rachel? Once upon a time, I thought you talked too much and didn't think enough. Now, however, I'm beginning to realize that you think about as much as you talk, if not more, coming up with all these ridiculous theories and fears that don't even make sense. Do you know what you need to do more of? You need to listen. More specifically, you need to listen to your Mom more. It's amazing you're actually listening to me now, way more than you were listening to her just now."

"I do listen to her," Rachel protested indignantly. "I listen to her and try my very best to obey her, to do everything she tells me to do."

"Sure, Little Miss Goody Two Shoes, but that's not what I meant. I meant that you need to listen to what she _says_. Listen and actually internalize and believe her words when she tells you she's going to keep you and she isn't going to hurt you."

Rachel nodded. She knew she had a tendency to go off tangent on a rant when she was emotional, and when she was in that kind of headspace, it was very difficult for her to stop and listen to others. Especially when her mother was saying all kinds of things that didn't make sense.

But Quinn, Quinn was like her. Her father had hurt her and she had ended up in Shelby's care…

"We're both the same status, right? Under her temporary custody. So I don't see why you think it's such a ridiculous or inconceivable idea that she might want to pick you over me."

Quinn threw her hands up in exasperation. "You're her daughter! Her _real_ daughter, the one she gave birth to! Can't you see that that makes you very much different from me. I'm nobody to her, a pathetic nobody she picked up from the hospital because no one else wanted me."

Rachel, however, was no longer listening to her but was once again staring at her still-bandaged wrists.

Quinn sighed. She was going to regret this later, she just knew it.

"You showed me your back, so I guess it's only fair I tell you one thing about me. So shoot, what is it that you want to know?"

"How-" Rachel began and forced her eyes away from Quinn's wrists. What if Quinn had really tried to kill herself? She wasn't sure she really wanted to have that kind of a conversation with Quinn. She had no idea what to say about something like that.

Quinn unwrapped the bandages from her wrists. It didn't hurt anymore, and honestly, she had kept the bandages on more to keep the remnant ligature marks away from staring eyes rather than because she really needed them. Still, if Rachel insisted on staring at the damn bandages anyway, there wasn't any point in keeping them on.

Rachel stared transfixed. Those weren't cuts, but she wasn't quite sure what they were either. They went all around Quinn's wrists, and had been bleeding at some point in time, but now it was just dried scabs and light bruising…

"He tied me down," Quinn offered by way of explanation.

"When he…?"

"Yes," Quinn said quickly, cutting off. Rachel had already told her what she had overheard, so there was no use pretending that Rachel didn't know what her father had done to her but that still didn't mean she needed to hear it said out loud. "I didn't want to, and I resisted him, so he tied me down."

"I'm sorry," Rachel said genuinely.

Quinn nodded. She wanted to tell Rachel she was sorry about her fathers' punishment of her too, but somehow the words wouldn't come out.

"I thought you might have tried to kill yourself. When you found out about your pregnancy?"

"Is that why you've been staring at my wrists any chance you get?"

Rachel's face coloured bright red. "It was hard to look away," she protested weakly but she knew Quinn was probably right. Subtlety had never really been her strong suit.

She sobered when she considered what had really happened to Quinn's wrists. Her own father… So why couldn't Quinn understand that if her own _birth father_ could do something so perverse and horrible to her, Rachel's own birth mother could easily do something as simple as to kick her out if she found her useless and incorrigible? Especially with such strong competition around?

When Quinn lay back down on the bed, Rachel followed suit.

Again, Rachel not so subtly waited until Quinn had settled down before inching forward and lying down as close to the edge as possible. Quinn frowned at her. Her thoughtfulness wasn't because she still insisted on sleeping as far away from her as possible. She'd thought about that and figured out that like her father, Rachel had probably guessed at the sexual relationship between Santana and Brittany and maybe suspected Quinn played for their team too. Was she a lesbian? She had no idea herself. She couldn't even bring herself to sleep with her boyfriend whom she had never even really liked in the first place, but then again, she had never had a crush on a girl either. Homosexuality was a sin, right?

Whatever, why were her thoughts turning into Rachel Berry level rants? Her initial point was, yes, that Rachel Berry's odd prone sleeping position finally made some sense to her, after what she had just seen. That poor girl.

"Does it hurt a lot? I have some aloe vera gel, it usually helps me. I have some stronger stuff from the hospital nurse too, it works great but I don't really know what's inside."

Rachel turned her head to look at Quinn. "Pardon?"

"Pain relief ointment. It's soothing and helps with the bruising. Want some?"

It was Rachel's turn to frown. She sat back up and folded her arms at Quinn. "It doesn't hurt. I told you, it's been almost 2 weeks, and it's healing very well, but thank you for offering."

"Whatever, your loss." Quinn answered flippantly, although inside, she was thinking 'Bullshit, that looks freaking painful.'

Rachel tilted her head to study Quinn for a moment before shrugging. "Thank you, and I don't mean to be rude by rejecting your kind offer but it really is no big deal."

When Quinn nodded at her, she smiled and flopped back down onto her original sleeping position.

Quinn listened to Rachel's breathing as it slowed until it was even. She didn't know why she couldn't sleep, why this midget was making her dredge up ancient memories she thought she had locked away forever. Frannie was tall and quiet whereas Rachel was tiny and loud, so what was it about the imp that reminded her so painfully of her sister?

Maybe it was the ridiculous way in which the midget kept trying to protect her, offering to do her chores and God forbid, take her punishments for her. And she hadn't forgotten about Rachel trying to protect her from the hockey team's slushies either. That girl seriously doesn't know her own strength or lack thereof, she was the one that needs protection. Quinn winced, remembering the brief view she had caught of the girl's back.

Speaking of which, maybe it was that? Truthfully, even if she had never really fully recognized it back then, Frannie had always gotten the worse end of her father's belt. Quinn's latest belting was about as bad as her father would get with her, and she could only recall a handful of occasions when he had punished her more severely than this, but with her elder sister, he had had no such limits. She couldn't count the number of times she had watched horrified as her father turned her sister's soft pale skin into something similar to what Rachel had just showed her. But just like Rachel, her sister would just brush it off, tell Quinn she was fine and it didn't hurt that badly. Only when it was really bad did she allow Quinn to see it, and only to help her apply the aloe vera gel on it so it wouldn't hurt so bad…

Or maybe it was how her sister had always insisted on talking about Quinn's problems and listening to Quinn's woes but never discussed her own? Even though more often than not, she had gotten the worst of their father's anger, the worst of the scoldings and beatings. Russell wanted a pretty, feminine, intelligent and popular daughter, and somehow Quinn had managed to become exactly what he wanted. Frannie, on the other hand, was too bookish, too lanky, too boyish; she preferred to play soccer when their parents thought she ought to be focussing her efforts on cheerleading, she preferred to read about philosophy and literature, or write fictional stories about great romances when they thought she ought to be focusing on her science and math which she was weak at. Frannie was told time and again that she was a disappointment compared to Quinn, but she had never shared her problems with Quinn or even complained to, much less resented her favoured position, preferring to focus on Quinn instead and helping her in any way she could.

It was something that Quinn had always found strange but her younger self had had no qualms about ignoring her elder sister's greater pain in favour of talking her elder sister to death. She had seemed to even enjoy it, after all. Now, Quinn thought she might finally understand why. It was easier to focus on someone else's pain than your own. In the last few hours, what with all the drama between Shelby and Rachel, and then just now, with Rachel's surprising revelations about her fathers, she had almost completely forgotten about her father, forgotten that she was impregnated with his child and finally reported his sexual abuse and rape to the police. For those few hours when she had focused on Rachel's story, she had almost forgotten her own.

…

Shelby blinked. Was that Rachel's face staring back at her?

She stirred sluggishly. It was indeed Rachel who was kneeling beside her bed, her cheek leaning against her mattress, upturned face looking towards her. Or at least she would be, if her little girl wasn't currently fast asleep.

"Hey Rachel," she murmured sleepily, nudging at her daughter's elbow. "Wake up!"

Rachel mumbled incoherently.

"Come on, sleepyhead, wake up and crawl into bed with me, the floor must be freezing. What are you doing sleeping here anyway?"

Rachel's eyes sprung open at the last question, which Shelby had said louder than the rest of her incoherent mumbles, as she gradually woke up from her own sleep-induced drowsiness.

"Wha- I'm sorry! I'm sorry I fell asleep! Please don't make me do this another night!"

_Wait, what?_ Shelby startled, fully awake now.

"Rachel, honey, it's just me. Your mother, Shelby," Shelby informed her as gently as possible. She climbed out of her blankets to better face her daughter, in the process taking note of Rachel's bare feet, but she figured now was not the time to be scolding Rachel about that. Rachel seemed all too afraid of her already, and she needed to figure out know why first.

"Come up here, you must be freezing," she told her, but Rachel remained on her knees on the floor, although she had backed away from the bed. Her eyes looked around the room wildly, and Shelby sighed, offering her hand to Rachel, palm upwards, but doing nothing else, patiently giving her the time she needed to regain her bearings.

"Better?" she asked, when Rachel stopped looking around and her eyes fixed back on her mom.

Rachel nodded. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry for waking you and for yelling like that. Please, I'll go back to my room, now," she mumbled as she stood up and backed away from the bed towards the door. Shelby couldn't help but notice that Rachel was keeping at least an arm's length away from her, and she thought she might know why, although the thought of it sickened her.

_Talk to her, Shelbs. Assuming things about what each other was thinking was what caused things to get so messed up, remember?_

"Wait," Shelby said, and Rachel froze where she was standing. "Come sit down here and we'll talk for a while. If that's okay with you?"

Rachel knew an order when she heard one, even if this one was phrased like a request. She nodded hesitantly, and shuffled over to the spot on the bed which Shelby was patting, perching herself on the edge of the bed.

Shelby pulled the blankets off her bed and wrapped them around her daughter. "You're really cold," she commented as she did so.

"I'm sorry," Rachel apologised quietly, head bowed down, not quite able to repress the shiver that vibrated through her body. Shelby gave her an odd look, and went into her closet, grabbing the first sweater she saw – one from NYU. It was one of her favourite ones and she knew it would be warm enough.

Rachel watched as her mother removed the blankets, and relaxed her body, allowing her mother to pull the sweater over the head. It felt nice, she decided, and not just because it was warm. The sweater carried her mother's scent and she inhaled it contentedly, already in love with it.

This time, Shelby nodded her approval. "One would think that someone in possession of so many sweaters would think to put one of them on when she goes traipsing around the house on a cold November night in nothing but her cotton-thin pajamas," Shelby tutted as she wrapped the blankets around Rachel again for the added warmth.

Shelby's voice was gentle, but the disapproval in it made Rachel wince, sending her crashing back to earth. "I'm sorry," Rachel repeated again. "I'll remember to put on a sweater next time… Not that there'll be a next time, I won't come in the middle of the night… any more…"

"It's okay," Shelby began. "You can come find me in the middle of the night anytime you want, I don't mind at all, although I'm sure you would much rather wake me up as well, or at least, crawl into bed with me. I would also prefer you put on a sweater and warm slippers first, of course." At Rachel's frightened look, Shelby lost all heart to nag at her. "Don't worry, I'm not angry with you, I just want to talk, that's all."

"Talk? Talk about what?"

"For instance, why were you afraid of me just now? And what did you think I was making you do, that you were afraid I would force you to do another night?"

Rachel shook her head quickly. "It was nothing," she insisted.

"Talk to me please, Rachel."

Rachel continued to stare down at her lap, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of the sweater. Her mom wanted to talk to her. It seemed like such a simple enough request, especially for someone as verbose as herself, so why was she having so much difficulty with it? "There's nothing to say. I was just groggy and remembered something that happened a long time ago, and it was stupid. We don't have to talk about this."

"I need you to talk to me, Rachel. You can't keep everything in your head and not tell me about it, because I can't read what's in your head, and I can't correct your misunderstandings if there are any. What happened just now, the whole episode at dinner and the misunderstanding with Quinn, was a result of our lack of communication, and I don't want that to happen again. We need to talk to each other about what's on our minds, and not simply assume that things are stupid and not worth saying. Okay?"

Rachel's heart beat wildly in her chest. "Okay," she decided. She would tell her mom anything, as long as she didn't have to talk about her nightmare.

"Alright, so let's start again. Why were you so afraid of me just now?"

"I'm not afraid of you," she protested and caught the look on her mom's face – Shelby clearly didn't believe her.

"It wasn't you I was afraid of," she corrected.

"Who was it then?"

Rachel's eyes dropped back down to her lap. "It was Dad."

"What happened?"

"I fell asleep doing my homework. That was back when he allowed me to do schoolwork at home, but I was ungrateful and undisciplined and fell asleep doing it." Rachel twisted the edge of the blanket hesitantly.

"Uh-huh," Shelby encouraged, hoping for more of the story to be shared. Currently it still didn't quite make much sense. Thankfully, Rachel obliged.

"So he punished me and made me kneel down beside his bed and stay awake. And if I nodded off and he caught me, he'd beat me and then make me repeat the punishment the next night."

Shelby nodded although her heart was screaming inside her chest. "Did you?"

Rachel bit her lip and nodded. "I did, but only the first night. The second night I managed to stay awake throughout the night, and that was the end of that punishment." She swallowed hard, recalling how she had pressed her bottom against the bony heels of her feet every time she had felt drowsy. The biting pain of those fresh cuts on her bottom had barely managed to keep her awake that night, and she'd had so much difficulty trying to stay awake in class the next day. In fact, she was pretty certain she had fallen asleep a few times in almost every lesson, and she certainly hadn't registered much of what was being taught, but thankfully, none of the teachers had called home to complain, and that had been the end of that punishment.

"Did he do that a lot?" Shelby asked, fighting to keep her voice as soft as possible. It was Leroy that she was angry at, not Rachel, she reminded herself.

"He only did it once," Rachel assured her. "He said it wasn't a very effective punishment because he needed to sleep too and he couldn't sleep properly if he had to keep waking up all night to check on me and make sure I didn't fall asleep."

_He_ needed to sleep but his daughter could kneel beside his bed all night watching him sleep? Shelby felt a sudden desire to drive down to this man's house now and slap him silly.

"But the kneeling position beside his bed was very similar to what I was doing just now and I was disoriented for a moment and thought you were Dad… I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I understand. Thank you for sharing this with me, Rachel."

Rachel nodded. It was stupid. She was being stupid, mistaking her Mom for her Dad, when they were nothing like each other. Mom should be scolding her, not thanking her.

"Do you think you deserved that punishment?"

Rachel bit her lip. She had thought this conversation was over. She shrugged, unsure of how to answer the question. "I was wrong to fall asleep, so I got punished," she answered simply.

"When? While doing your schoolwork or when being punished?"

"Both. I was wrong to fall asleep when I was supposed to be working on my schoolwork. So I got punished, and I was wrong to fall asleep when I was being punished by being made to stay awake. It was disobedient and defiant of me."

"Why did you fall asleep when doing your schoolwork?"

"Because I was lazy and ill-disciplined."

"Was that what your Dad said?"

Rachel nodded unhappily, wishing that this conversation would end soon. She really didn't want to listen to any more lectures about how "abusive" her fathers were, when she knew better. It really wasn't any of their fault, it was her own repeated wrongdoings that had earned her the punishments in the first place. If these people could only really understand the things she had done and how much hardship her fathers had suffered raising her, they would understand.

"Were you trying to keep awake?"

"Yes. Yes, I was, I promise. But everything was dark and watching both my fathers sleeping in front of me, it was tempting to fall asleep too. Besides, I was just really tired… I guess I wasn't trying hard enough."

"Why were you really tired?"

"I had a singing competition coming up and I had to practice. I was sleeping 3-4 hours a night and I had my regular chores and exercises and dance and acting classes too. The schoolwork wasn't due for a week either, and we hadn't learnt some of it yet, and it was really difficult," Rachel explained. "I really was trying my best. And I did win first place in the competition so it was worth it in the end."

"I see." Shelby recalled all the trophies from various competitions that she had displayed on Rachel's shelves and she wondered if there was a story like this one behind each of them.

"So you had a reason to be tired and need your sleep then?"

Rachel shrugged. "I should have tried harder to stay awake," she insisted, although with less conviction this time. "I was just a stupid and lazy little kid, I'm not like that anymore. I study ahead now and I always finish all my schoolwork ahead of time and usually manage to do it all in school too, so you don't have to worry about that anymore."

"How old were you when that happened?"

"10."

"You were just a kid, Rachel, and you shouldn't have been so busy that you could only sleep 3 hours a night – Most children that age need a lot more sleep than that, at least 6-8 hours. While I wouldn't normally approve of falling asleep while doing your schoolwork, what happened wasn't your fault. You were sleeping far too little to be healthy."

"I can do it now, Mom. I can sleep 3 hours a night if you want me to."

"You don't have to, and I don't want you to. Children need at least 8 hours of sleep every night to grow properly. Lack of sleep would affect your academic development too."

"It didn't," Rachel insisted. "I still scored the best grades… well, almost the best."

"And I'm so proud of you that you still managed that, under those circumstances, but you shouldn't have had to. Alright?"

Rachel shrugged, clearly not believing her mom.

"Why don't you look it up tomorrow – on the internet at the library, or even ask the school nurse if you want, and then come home and tell me how many hours of sleep doctors recommend that children get?"

Rachel nodded. "Okay. I can do that."

"Good girl," Shelby praised earning herself a beaming smile from Rachel.

"And about your homework, you _are_ allowed to do it at home, okay? I am not going to fill your days with classes or chores, you will have time to do your homework, which is meant to be done at home, as the name implies. It's a miracle you've even managed to get such excellent grades rushing through your homework in school everyday like that."

Rachel shrugged. "I guess I'm just used to it?"

"Then you can get re-used to doing your homework at home. Break time at school is meant to be spent talking to friends, relaxing, taking a _break_."

Rachel chewed her lip before speaking again. "I… I guess you already know by now that I don't really have many friends."

"What about your Glee club teammates?"

She shrugged again, but then remembered Michael, and the vocal and dance sessions she had agreed to. He could be a friend.

"Maybe if you spent more time hanging out with your teammates instead of hiding in the library doing your homework, you would realize that they could actually be your friends," Shelby continued. She didn't want to make too many references to Rachel's lack of popularity at school, and she knew she was treading on thin ice here, but she did hope that Rachel would eventually make some friends. No matter what she did for Rachel at home, school and the opinion of her peers would always be a very strong influence in any teenager's life, Rachel's included.

"Okay," Rachel agreed. "I can do that."

"Alright," Shelby said, deciding that that was enough on that subject. "Are you okay now?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes, I was just groggy just now from waking up, that's all. I'm fine now, really."

"Do you want to tell me why you came here to find me tonight?"

Rachel shrugged. Hadn't they talked enough? Why did Mom want to talk about the very thing she didn't want to think about?

"Did you have a nightmare?"

Rachel nodded once, then shrugged, then nodded again and Shelby sighed.

"You did have one."

Rachel only nodded this time but remained silent.

"You've been having nightmares, haven't you? Tonight and that night I was in your room… These aren't the only times you've woken up due to bad dreams, both times afraid of me, I might add."

Rachel shrugged again, but didn't deny it. She glanced up nervously at her mom, her lower lip once again firmly stuck between her teeth as she tried to figure out what her mom really wanted from her.

"You've been having nightmares but you don't want to talk about them?"

Rachel nodded and looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry, I just… I can't." She looked back up at her mom for reassurance that that was okay, that she wouldn't be angry with her, or hurt that she couldn't open up to her. It's just, especially after what Quinn had said about her doubts of her mom hurting her… telling her mom about her dreams would just hurt her even more. She didn't know why her subconscious mind was dreaming up all these scenarios, or where it even got all these scenarios from, but it was bad enough that she had to live through them every night. Her mom didn't need to hear about them too.

Shelby sighed. Clearly, she had gotten just about as much as she could out of Rachel tonight.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. It's really late in the night now, so let's go to sleep, alright?"

"Okay," Rachel agreed again. She removed the blankets off her shoulders reluctantly, before realizing that her mom had been shivering in the cold during their entire conversation. When she tried to take off the sweater as well, Shelby stopped her.

"Keep it," Shelby said. "It looks good on you."

Rachel's heart soared at that and she promised herself that if she couldn't get into NYADA, her second choice college would be NYU. She would follow in her mom's footsteps, live and study in New York while attending auditions, the only difference being that she would get onto Broadway one day and make her Mom so proud of her.

She handed the blankets back to her mom. "I'm sorry for hogging your sweater _and_ the blankets," she apologized.

Shelby smiled. "_I_ was the one who gave you my blankets to keep you warm. God onlyknows how long you were sleeping beside my bed, freezing in the cold. Thank God I woke up when I did, otherwise I might have woken up in the morning to a frozen stature sleeping beside my bed."

Rachel giggled at the image, and Shelby's heart soared that her daughter was no longer as afraid of her. Still, she now had to make sure that next time, Rachel wouldn't allow herself to freeze to death in the cold again.

"Next time you want to take a walk around the house at night, make sure you wear your slippers first, okay?"

"I hadn't intended to stay very long," Rachel protested. "I was just going to look at you awhile, make sure you're still here, then go back to sleep. I just stayed too long and accidentally fell asleep too."

"Of course I'm still here. Where else could I have gone?"

Rachel shrugged. 'Back to New York', she thought in her head, but didn't voice it out.

"Besides, you could have just seen that I'm here and gone back to sleep, you know? No need to kneel beside my bed and fall asleep all blanket-less, slipper-less and cold."

"You look really beautiful when you're sleeping," Rachel blurted out, before she even had the chance to process those words and wonder if she should even be saying them. She couldn't tell her mom the real reason she had wanted to look at her for a while was for this serene image to chase away the dreams of Angry Shelby, but women liked to be complimented on their appearance, right?

Shelby blushed. _Seriously?_ She was glad for the cover of the night, which hid her flushed cheeks, although nothing could hide her embarrassed smile. She tried and failed to school her features into a more stern appearance to finish up her lecture on wearing slippers.

"Nevertheless, please wear your slippers when you walk around the house, okay? Just because you intended to head back to your room before I woke up is no excuse, because you don't wear slippers to please me, you wear them to keep your feet warm and prevent you from catching a cold."

"Yes, Mom," Rachel agreed. "I won't walk around without my slippers again, I promise." She paused, unsure of how to continue.

"Are you angry with me?" came a small voice, that shattered Shelby's heart once more and wiped the smile off her face.

"I'm not angry, honey," she reassured her. "Let's just go to sleep now."

Rachel looked dubiously at her.

"Come here," she said, reaching out to pull Rachel closer to her. When Rachel did not protest, she wrapped an arm around her. "Next time you want to look at me in the middle of night, just crawl right in with me, okay? It's too cold for you to be sleeping without a blanket, and the floor seriously cannot be all that comfortable."

"Really?" Rachel's unsure eyes met her again but this time, they were also shining with hope.

"Yes, really," she reassured, as her arm tightened around her daughter. "I'll never turn you away, and you can come join me in my bed anytime you want. This bed is definitely big enough for the both of us."

Rachel nodded happily and snuggled closer to her Mom. "Yes, Mom. I will."

Shelby smiled, breathing in her daughter's scent as she held her close, until gradually, she felt the little bundle in her arms relax and fall asleep.

Shelby looked at Rachel's sleeping face snuggled close to her and couldn't help but feel secretly thrilled at how close she was. This was nice, she thought guiltiy. She knew a good mother would hope that her daughter would be able to sleep through the night in her own bed without nightmares but a small part of her was glad that Rachel still needed her, that Rachel had sought her out in the night, even if it was just to seek comfort in seeing her – that even the simple act of seeing her had been able to bring her daughter some measure of comfort.

It was pathetic, she knew, but it was progress.

Besides, when her request to visit Rachel had been refused so many years ago, she had thought she would never have the joy of having her daughter need her this way ever again. And since she'd met Rachel at the CPS, even just now, when Rachel had been so frightened of her, she had never thought Rachel would be so comfortable with sleeping with her as she was doing now.

In her dreams of one day meeting an 18-year-old daughter, she had always imagined her daughter would want her to be cool and treat her in a mature manner, as a fellow adult. This, holding a teenage-but-still-younger-than-18 Rachel in her arms as she slept, was a very pleasant and not unwelcome surprise. Rachel looked so young and innocent in her sleep that Shelby imagined, for a moment, that Shelby could imagine her baby girl was younger, that she had stayed in Lima so many years ago and raised Rachel for herself and none of the mess with the Berrys had ever happened. That now, little Rachel was just seeking her out in the middle of the night due to some childish nightmare. Rather than because she was afraid her mother would abandon her.

_Stop deluding yourself, Shelbs. Rachel has been through so much, you have no right to waste time deceiving yourself and denying the truth. You've got to face up to what happened if you want to fully help Rachel with everything she's been through._

However, now, in the middle of the night, lying on her bed beside her sleeping daughter, with no one watching her, no one to judge her, it was really hard not to dream about what might have been.

In the shadows, Quinn stared enviously at Rachel cuddling up to Shelby. When she had woken up after her own nightmare to an empty bed, she had panicked slightly, and when she had seen Rachel on Shelby's bed in Shelby's room, she had thought the worst. Now that she had seen how tender and loving Shelby was towards Rachel, though, she was reassured of Rachel's safety but she also felt so very alone.

Why couldn't she have a mother like Shelby too? Rachel's fathers might have been assholes, and she might be seriously messed up in the head, but at least she still had her mother to love her and comfort her, and help correct her mistaken beliefs. (And it seemed like Rachel had taken Quinn's advice to, about listening to her mother talk instead of rambling off on her own.)

Subconsciously, she touched her hand to her belly. Even if there was no discernable bulge still, she knew that somewhere inside, a tiny heartbeat was beating away. That was all she had now – her baby. And she was also all that her baby had. Silently, she hoped that she would make as good a mother to her baby as Shelby was to Rachel.

As she returned back to Rachel's bedroom alone, she had a sudden memory of crawling into bed with Frannie whenever she'd had a bad night. Frannie would sing to her or tell her a story, and hold her until she fell asleep. A tear rolled down her cheek and she didn't bother to wipe it away. She missed her sister so much.

As she pulled the blanket up to her chin and tried to go back to sleep, she could almost hear Frannie's gentle voice whisper softly in her ear. _"Chin up, kiddo. Tomorrow's another day."_

**A/N. Finally! This chapter was longer than usual because I really wanted to finish writing this story-day. Do you realize that it's taken me 27 chapters (Chapters 20-46, aka more than half the story so far!) to cover 5 measley days (Friday to Tuesday). Insane! But in my defense, these 5 days have been terribly intense, and now that they are over, hopefully things will calm down and move faster from now on. Tomorrow (in story time) might take about 3 chapters to write but after that, I'll try to keep the speed at 1, maximum 2 chapters to describe each day, maybe even (gasp!) skip a few uneventful days. Until the next big event happens, of course :D **


	49. 2000 words

You-Know-Who-I-Is - Haha, I had no idea myself either, until I went back to count the chapters XD It will certainly be nice for Quinn to feel less lonely and more loved, but that will unfortunately take some time (:

CarmellaD'Winter - Quinn may be very careful about what she says to everyone, but Rachel is someone whom she has never had to mince her words with. I guess that habit carries on now even though the bullying has come to an end. Which I like too, because Rachel needs someone to say some/many things to her directly, not just tiptoe around her, because she really doesn't understand subtle messages, haha. Quinn is growing too, even if it's not as obvious as Rachel because she isn't quite so open, and I'm glad you can see it and are enjoying it (:

NZgleek91 - Thanks! More about Frannie will be revealed later but it's hard, because Quinn is the only one who knows anything about her and for many reasons, she only mentions her so very rarely. Which I suppose, is one reason I have needed her to be around Rachel/Shelby, no matter how jealous/lonely/sad it made her feel, because it was watching them that reminded her of her sister.

Future -Styles - Thanks (:

ajunebuga – I hope you don't worry too much, because you won't discover that for many more chapters to come

Alese222 - It's the second time I've wrote these Quinn watching Shelby/Rachel scenes in some detail but I figure in the past 3 days she's been staying here, she's watched countless mother-daughter exchanges, and even the most mundane ones would have reminded her of what Judy did not (or could not) give her.

demisparks - Haha, thanks for your flattering compliments, but I must say, _I_ would certainly mind taking a hundred chapters to describe one day, because then my story would never end, and I desperately need to finish this story, haha. I'm glad you pointed out that the heartwarming scene was good for not only Rachel, but Shelby as well. She's been trying so hard and gone through so much that I figured she deserved something good. I think she would appreciate these tender moments with Rachel more than any gift money can buy, or any personal achievement she can attain.

Shana - Haha, thanks for the forgiveness and yay that you loved your carrots. I figured among my readers (or at least, those who review), you would appreciate the carrots most of all. Glad you enjoyed your feast, and yes, I do realize it brings up many more questions as well, but I guess, you'll just have to wait awhile longer for answers to those (and hopefully not more questions). Hope the carrots from this feast sustain you for some time to come.

sol goddess - Rachel might be physically little but she is in Santana's grade, isn't much younger than her, and does not behave very young at school (immature maybe), especially not in Glee where she has self-appointed herself as their leader.

BellaDora Soulmates - Haha, please don't linger too much on that word, it just refers to days when many things happen and there's much to describe / talk about. Quinn does have more than she realizes, but it's hard not to feel lonely in her situation and focus on what she has lost, or what she has never had in the first place.

lemon-rind - You're right, school is going to be a whole new ball game, and just because they're starting to get along at home (with no one around) doesn't mean it'll be easy for them to do the same at school.

KC1991 - Quinn should and will talk about her insecurities with someone (any guesses who?). As for where Frannie is, you'll just have to wait to find out :P

SA03 - Haha, thank you. Quinn does need some hugs and reassurance, but just because she needs it doesn't mean people will notice and give it. Especially when she is excellent at putting on that cool icy facade and pretending that nothing fazes her and she's perfectly okay. As for Frannie, for fear of spoilers for later surprises, I'm going to take a rain check on answering that question. Guess away :D

Elizabeth – You're welcome (: I update about once a week, sometimes once in two weeks.

sunfire1134 – Sorry I can't tell you that without spoiling the surprises in future plotlines. You'll just have to wait like everyone else :P

JWilson18 – Thanks, glad you enjoyed it (:

olacindy – Yep. Great, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I love Quinn's sister – No one knows anything about Frannie, who in the show, did not even appear when Quinn gave birth to a baby, or when she got into a car accident, and was also nowhere to be seen we went into Quinn's house to watch Finn tell Quinn's parents that they were having a baby. It kind of gives me carte blanche to write her any way I want XD

Truths come out alittle. I really enjoyed the way Quinn and Rachel talked and gave advice. Nice touch with the way you ended with Quinn's memory of her sister.

1moredreamer – I think it is a lot easier for Quinn to admire Santana and Rachel's relationships with their respective mothers from afar, than it is for Quinn to attempt to build a relationship of her own with either Maribel or Shelby. She's going to have to do a lot of work, and right now, there's just too much fear and bad memories and trust issues in the way. In a way, it's good that she saw Rachel blow up but come to know harm, and to watch Shelby treat Rachel lovingly, because it helps build that little bit of trust in her, but she has got quite some way to go still (:

Rini – Haha! Rachel is indeed a little glutton for punishment, although yes, I'm glad she's finally started listening to Quinn and Shelby now, because her misunderstanding and screwed up brainwashed mind was just painful to write. Quinn, on the other hand, I feel, wasn't really trying to punish herself in this case. The first time, she couldn't really help being present, and the second time, she went looking for Rachel because she feared for her safety, and only saw Shelby/Rachel together by chance.

GreenLemons – If you put it that way, all of us (real people living in the real world) are luckier than others in a way, and more unfortunate in others :P You're right, there's no contest, and I actually intended to write these girls to be so different on purpose. Not only did I want to avoid a comparison of who had it worse, I think that right now, the girls complement each other very well and fill a need in the other's life – Quinn giving Rachel straight talk and very good advice, Rachel giving Quinn forgiveness, kindness and acceptance, and both standing up for each other. As for hints, the next big event is one from canon, and hints of the fate of Quinn's sister has been peppered all over the last 46 chapters :P

Anon – You're right, Quinn isn't the sort to have a meltdown like Rachel, making her issues and insecurities more difficult to deal with than Rachel's.

ArmadilloPretzels – The _next_ big event. There'll be many more significant events to come, to keep up the drama?

Emerald Stag – Thanks (: Glad you liked so much of it.

Lexie – Wow, thanks! I was in the middle of extremely tedious research work when your review came in, and it totally made my day, so thank you. I hope I don't sound controlling, but the effect my words can have on my readers fascinates me. I can see how you could be disappointed about Quinn's placement with Rachel, although it's astonishing to me that you would cry because of it. I'm glad you now think it was a great idea. Quinn's bluntness is what Rachel needs, and it is one of the reasons why I chose to write them this way. Rachel has many qualities that will aid Quinn in her healing process too (:

**A/N. I'm sorry Quinn is still feeling so sad and lonely. It is unfair that Rachel gets to cuddle up with her Mom whereas Quinn seems to always be watching on the sidelines, but as I always say, life ain't fair. Moreover, Rachel has been here for a longer period of time and she's had to struggle with her share of rocky times before reaching this stage of relationship with her mother. That is not to say that Quinn will be all warm and fuzzy with Shelby by next week - her relationship with Shelby is very different from Rachel's, and despite the similarities between her childhood and Rachel's, she is fundamentally a very different person - more private, not as trusting. I don't know how many people read this, but I once said that Quinn represents the unlikeable type of abused children, those they grow up mean and angry and put people off, because they are unlikeable and appear strong (their defense mechanism), therefore fail to receive the help they need. **

**In short, Quinn's journey will be different from Rachel's, but I hope you'll enjoy it all the same (:**

Chapter 47. 2000 words

"Mom? What time is it? I need to go to school!" Rachel exclaimed as she hurriedly rolled out of bed. She caught sight of her mother's bedside clock blinking '7:53AM' in red and she flew into panic. "It's almost 8! Why didn't my alarm clock ring! I'm going to be so late!"

Shelby grabbed Rachel's arm lightly to stop her from dashing out of the room. "Hey hey, calm down there. I was the one who switched off your alarm clock and closed the curtains, so you could sleep in today."

"But I have school!"

"I've already called in and told your school that you're not coming in today."

"But why? I'm not sick or anything…"

"I know. But I've arranged for an emergency appointment for you with Dr Janet."

"Why?"

"Because there are things you need to talk to someone about." Shelby paused, hoping to phrase her words carefully. "I would _love_ for you to talk to me about what's on your mind and what's troubling you. And I will always be here to listen if you ever want to share about these things to me. I understand that there are some things that you can't talk to me about, and it's not fair for me to demand you do so if you're not comfortable with it, but that doesn't change the fact that you need someone to talk to."

"About what? There's nothing I need to talk about, Mom. I'm fine, really."

"What about those nightmares?"

Rachel's shoulders slumped in defeat. "They're no big deal," she mumbled unconvincingly.

"Yes, they are a big deal, Rachel. Especially if they're bad enough to wake you up and send you into my room to check if I'm still here. And it didn't just occur that one time last night, right? You've been tired, you haven't been sleeping well, and I would hazard a guess that the morning you woke up early to write your essay and prepare breakfast was because a nightmare woke you up?"

Rachel sighed and nodded. What was the point in lying?

"If you can't talk about them with me, you should at least talk about them to Dr Janet. She can help you. And about the other things too, the things you said yesterday, your fears and insecurities... A lot happened yesterday, a lot has happened in these past few days, and I'm sure there's much you can talk to her about."

"Dad always said I couldn't talk to doctors about what happened at home."

"And that should have been your first sign that what he was doing to you wasn't right!" Shelby blurted out. She couldn't help it but one look at Rachel told her that that wasn't the right thing to say. Rachel's posture immediately tensed, and it looked as though all her defenses were raised in the second it took for Shelby's words to register.

Shelby tried a different tack. "You don't have to talk to Dr Janet about what happened with your fathers if you don't want to. But _I_ give you permission to talk about what happens in _my_ home, okay?"

_We'll tackle your fathers another time_, Shelby told herself. She wasn't in denial or ignoring that proverbial white elephant, she was just postponing a more difficult task to a later date, when she was better equipped to deal with it.

Rachel considered her mother's words carefully. She still wanted to defend her fathers' actions but this was her mother, not some random asshole football players. Besides, if her mother was willing to back down from the argument, then maybe she should too.

"Okay," she finally agreed. "I can talk to her, if you really want me to."

"I do want you to," Shelby replied. She reached over and touched Rachel lightly on her shoulder. "Thank you, Rachel, I know this isn't easy for you."

Rachel smiled a little at that. "Everyone says I talk too much and am too insistent on making my opinions heard, so I don't suppose talking to the psychiatrist can really be all that hard."

"Okay, that's good to hear," Shelby said with a laugh. She was about to suggest that Rachel go wash up while she started preparing breakfast, but Rachel's face had grown thoughtful again, and Shelby waited patiently for her to speak up.

Rachel chewed her bottom lip nervously. Her comment on talking too much had reminded her of what Quinn had said yesterday, agreeing that she talked too much and suggesting that she listen to her mom more. Which remind her of something else Quinn had said...

"Quinn says I hurt your feelings yesterday when I thought you were going to kick me out of the house."

Shelby nodded silently and reached up to tuck a lock of Rachel's hair behind her ear. Sometimes, she realized, words were so insufficient that they simply didn't need to be said.

"I'm sorry," Rachel whispered, looking up at her mom. "I'm just really confused and you're so different from how my fathers were... I don't know what you expect of me, or... I keep making mistakes and I keep expecting you to punish me but you never ever do and it's all so confusing. Then Quinn came and I thought she was going to replace me and I just couldn't let that happen... I'm sorry I didn't trust you and I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean to, I was just so scared, I didn't think about how you might feel."

"It's okay, Rachel. I understand. I abandoned you for 15 years, it's completely natural that you would have some mistrust of me. You have nothing to be sorry about, it is I who will have to work hard to win back your trust again. And if you believe nothing, then please believe this, I love you so much, and I want you as my daughter so badly, I'll never abandon you again. Ever. And every day of my life, Rachel, I will work hard to prove this to you, to earn your trust and make you feel safe and secure in my home. Our home, because no matter how old you get or what you do in the future, you will _always_ have a home with me."

"No matter how old I get? Really?" Rachel wrung her hands together nervously. "Did you really mean what you said? That you intend to keep me forever?"

"Yes. Forever."

"What if I hurt you as badly as I hurt my fathers? What if I was careless or stupid and I got you into trouble with the law? Wouldn't you drop me off at CPS and drop off a few boxes of my things there a few days later and never ever want to see me again?"

"If anything I do to you lands me in trouble with the law, Rachel, then I would have completely deserved it," Shelby told her in all sincerity. "But please believe me when I say that I'll never do to you what your fathers did. What they did to you, how badly they hurt you in the name of 'discipline', it was wrong, both morally and legally. I would never do that to you, okay?"

"You say that now..."

"I do say that now. And I'll continue to say that everyday for the rest of my life if that's what it takes to convince you. No matter what mistakes you think you've made, or how badly you think you provoked your fathers' anger, what they did to you wasn't right, and it's not something I would ever do to you."

Rachel chanced a glance at her mother. She looked like she really meant it too.

"Okay," she found herself agreeing. "Okay."

...

After breakfast, Shelby told both girls to take on the seat on the couch and wait for her. Rachel and Quinn obeyed quietly but looked at each other anxiously. Wasn't the drama over? What could Shelby want from them now?

"Are the two of you feeling better?"

Rachel nodded quickly and Quinn just sat there, arms folded and looked directly back at Shelby.

"That's good. Now that everyone is more calm now, we're going to talk, alright?"

Instantly, both girls looked afraid, although they both tried their best to hide it.

Shelby resisted the urge to sigh. "_Talking_ is all we're going to be doing. No one is going to get hit – I promise I won't even yell. But we are going to talk, because what happened last night can't be allowed to happen every night." She cracked a smile. "I don't think my heart can take it."

"It won't happen again," Rachel promised earnestly.

"So you say, young lady, but I don't just mean the crying and the spilt dinner. I also mean that we need to learn to communicate better to avoid future misunderstandings. While I would prefer quiet, cozy family dinners, I'm actually rather glad last night happened because it finally allowed me to realize what dark misconceptions you've been keeping to yourself and allowed us to be able to clarify matters. You need to know that you can come to me about anything anytime."

Rachel shook her head. "You said just now that I don't have to talk to you if I'm not comfortable doing so," she pointed out stubbornly.

"True," Shelby conceded, "But if you don't talk to me, you still need to go to someone about it. Especially when it comes to bits and pieces of information that you overhear and don't have the full picture of, so that we won't have such misunderstandings again. You need to come to me or another adult, not try and figure everything out on your own, get it all wrong and work yourself into such a frenzy."

Rachel looked to Quinn for support but Quinn just shrugged at her. Rachel _did_ go crazy on them both last night, so it wasn't all that surprising that Shelby was saying this but personally, Quinn would hate to be told to talk to people too, especially adults. What she thought and felt was her own damn business and no one else's.

Rachel sighed and nodded, leaning back against her chair. "Fine. I'm going to see Dr Janet today anyway, right?"

"Yes, and that's a good start, but you'll also be seeing her twice a week from now on, okay?"

"I have to miss school twice a week?" Rachel asked, her eyes wide open with surprise, and Quinn couldn't held dropping her icy façade to smirk a little at the dismay in Rachel's voice. Even Shelby couldn't help but smile.

"No, just today because the appointment was done last minute. Your future appointments will be on Tuesday afternoons and Saturday mornings, so no, you will not have to miss any more school."

Rachel nodded. Her mom's voice was firm and brooked no disagreements, so Rachel sighed resignedly and agreed.

"Quit smirking, Quinn, you too. I purposefully arranged her appointments occur at the same time as yours, and I've moved your afternoon appointments today to this morning too, for convenience's sake."

Quinn nodded, although inwardly, she had already resolved that there was no way any idiot counselor was going to force her to talk about personal crap. She'd said it before, and she would say it again until she was blue in the face – she wasn't crazy, and she didn't need to talk to a psychiatrist, psychologist, counselor, or therapist, or whatever the hell else they chose to call themselves.

"Rachel, the dishwasher just beeped, can you help me unload the dishes and keep them in the cupboards? I want to talk to Quinn alone for awhile."

Rachel turned questioning eyes on her mom.

"Like how I spoke to you alone this morning? Quinn deserves her privacy too, okay? No more eavesdropping on conversations please."

Rachel nodded and headed for the kitchen.

"Quinn, yesterday you said some things about being temporary and I should have explained things further then but…"

"But you were caught up with dealing with Rachel," Quinn completed for her, when Shelby trailed off uncertainly.

Shelby cleared her throat. "Yes. But it wasn't just that. I also wasn't sure how to explain myself to you and I needed time to think about it. I don't want to say the wrong thing. The thing is, I just moved here from New York. I'm on my own, a single parent, and I don't have my family with me here. In addition, I'm entirely new to being a mother to my own daughter, and I'm not exactly equipped with the necessary experience or skills as a foster parent, much less the ability to help someone like yourself."

"Just be straight with me please. Are you saying that you can't cope with me and Rachel and so you're sending me back?"

"No!" Shelby hurried to clarify. "I'm not sending you back, but I'm also not sure how long you'll be staying with us for. It's not that I don't want you, Quinn, or that I don't sympathise with what you have gone through. I just think that you may need closer care or more help than I can provide you with. Already, you can see that I'm… struggling, with Rachel. Add to that whatever conflicts that are going on between the both of you, I'm not sure how conducive an environment my home might be for you to recover in."

Quinn gritted her teeth and nodded. Shelby's words might have a grain of truth in them but she was too frustrated to give much credence to it. Just as she had expected, no one wanted to keep the troublesome pregnant girl for too long. She had been right to pack light and keep her car close at hand. Maybe she shouldn't even unpack her luggage in the first place.

"But I'll keep you for as long as I can, until Sharon can find someone better for you, and even if you were to leave, I would do my best to make sure it is to a loving and wholesome family who will give you and your child the best care possible, alright?"

Quinn nodded out of pure habit, but it was without any kind of conviction.

However, Shelby wasn't done.

"Quinn, I also wanted to thank you."

Quinn's eyebrows shot up. What?

"Rachel talked to me, about what you told her."

Quinn frowned. She had said many things to Rachel yesterday. What was she referring to?

"You told her she had hurt my feelings," Shelby explained.

Oh, that. Quinn shrugged. Any idiot with eyes to see could have seen that.

"I also caught snippets of your conversation last night with her."

Quinn's head snapped up "What?"

"The walls of this house are pretty flimsy, and I could hear the both of you shouting at each other from downstairs while I was preparing the dinner… that wasn't exactly eavesdropping."

Quinn pursed her lips but remained silent. She remembered that conversation very well and recalled both admitting that her father had hit her as well as telling Rachel she was going to kill Shelby at some point in time. Had she used any swear words? She frowned, unable to recall the exact words she had used. Damn it, why had she shouted so loudly in a stranger's home? It was all that midget's fault, she had a weird way at pushing at all her wrong buttons.

"I really appreciate what you did for Rachel and for myself. You wanted to come confront me when you thought I was the one hurting her, and while I wouldn't advise confronting an abusive parent if I was truly the one hurting her, you stood up for her, and from what I've seen with regards to her lack of popularity and the slushies at school, few people have done that for her before. Then, when she told you it was her fathers, you tried to convince her she didn't deserve that from them and that I love her and would never hurt her like they did. You even got her to understand that her thinking I was going to abandon her hurt my feelings, which was very perceptive of you. So thank you."

Quinn shrugged. "Whatever," she muttered. She had blanched a little when Shelby had mentioned about Rachel's lack of popularity at school, but Shelby clearly still didn't know who the main culprit was, since she had moved right on with her little speech. Quinn help her breath, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely there was another "but…" coming right up.

Shelby looked at Quinn. She didn't look like a girl who had just received a "Thank you", she looked like she was still anxiously waiting for the sky to fall down on her head.

"What I said to Rachel just now, it also refers to you, you know? You can come and talk to me about anything, I would prefer it, actually, rather than let you wallow in your fears and insecurities and allowing them to fester. I know I'm not all that experienced as a foster mother, and you deserve better but I want to help you all the same, in whatever ways I can, while you're living with me. I can't help you or address your fears if you don't talk to me."

Quinn took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I told her I was going to 'kill' you."

Shelby smiled and shook her head. "I wanted to kill her fathers too, when I found out what they had done to her. I wouldn't blame you for wanting to do likewise if you thought I had hurt her, although I hope you would have given me the benefit of the doubt and allowed me to defend myself before you moved in for the kill."

Quinn bit her lip. All this talk about killing was hypothetical, she knew, but if "killing" was a metaphor for caring for someone and wanting to protect them… Santana had wanted to kill her father too, when she found out, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same as the protection of a mother, an actual adult who could have done something about it. Judy had just stood there throughout the entire thing and hadn't said a word to try and stop him. She had told her she deserved it, even. Why couldn't she have had a mother like Shelby?

"I wanted to 'kill' your father too, when I heard what he did to you. In the interests of full disclosure, as your foster mother, Sharon showed me your medical report. I know he hit you as well, among the other much worse things. I'm sorry it happened to you too."

Quinn nodded. That was her second question answered, she supposed, her question of how much Shelby already knew. It explained why Shelby had been so nice to her despite her rudeness. She probably felt sorry for her. There was one last question though.

"I expected she would tell you. That's why I… I need to know. Would you hit us? Rachel and myself, when we get into trouble and mess up…"

"I wouldn't hit you. The worse I would ever do is to maybe spank you with only my hand but I wonder if the two of you are too old for that. But even for that, it wouldn't be done in anger, I would explain your punishment with you first and explain what was done wrong and why you're getting punished. I won't hit either of you out of anger, not even a slap."

"She said something about covering up bruises on Saturday." Quinn swallowed but forced herself to continue. "What happened there?"

Rachel, who had been listening from behind the kitchen door, jumped out. She couldn't remain silent any longer. "It was an accident!" she exclaimed. "I was kneeling, I thought she was going to punish me, so I put my hands behind my head, to keep them out of the way. I'm sure you know as well as I do that fending off a punishment blow with my hands would result in way worse punishments, sometimes even restrained."

Her eyes glanced involuntarily at Quinn's wrists none too subtly, where the bandages were now off, but light red marks and faint bruising could still be seen, and then she looked away again.

"So I was kneeling there, but I was mistaken and she didn't want to punish me at all, so she couldn't understand why I was kneeling there. She grabbed my arm to try to get me to move out of position. But I was confused and didn't know why she was making me move out of position, so I resisted her, and then there was this bruise caused by her fingers. But it was so tiny and mild, you could barely see it and it's no longer there anymore. I actually only had to cover it up on Saturday because by the time school started yesterday, no one could even see it."

Rachel's story rang true to Quinn, especially knowing what a terrible liar Rachel really was, but there was still one fishy aspect to it. "Why did you make her cover it up, then, if it was just an accident?" she directed at Shelby.

"I didn't…"

Rachel jumped in once again. "I covered it up on my own! I had to go to the hospital that day and I didn't want anyone to see it. And more importantly, I didn't want my mom to see it because she looked so sad every time she saw it and it killed me to make her feel so sad."

"Was that really why you covered it up?" Shelby asked. "You never explained it to me. I thought you did it because that was what you were used to, that you saw this bruise as the start of more abuse from me, and you covered it up just like you covered up all of your fathers' past punishments."

"That too. I mean, this really was an accident, I know it wasn't a punishment but I didn't trust the doctors and nurses to see it that way too. They took my fathers away when they saw the bruises that day and I didn't want them to take you away too. Their rules are stupid anyway, none of it was ever abuse."

Quinn looked back at Shelby and her eyes narrowed when Rachel's words did not garner any reaction from Shelby. How could Shelby sit there and allow Rachel to justify her fathers' actions like that? Did she agree with Rachel?

"Hell no, are you freaking kidding me? That was definitely abuse." She turned to Rachel. "Do you agree with that shit too? Because she showed me part of their masterpiece last night and her back looked all torn up. They definitely used a belt, possibly a cane as well, and she said the last time was fucking 12 days ago! You cannot possibly think that was okay and "not abuse"!"

Shelby held a hand up. "Sit down, please, Quinn. I'm glad you agree with me that it was abuse but there's no need to yell and use such foul language. Again. " Secretly, she was happy that Quinn was more like herself than like Rachel regarding this topic, but she still had to behave like a mother here.

"Rachel still has problems differentiating between abuse and appropriate discipline but we're working on it. In the meantime, like I just promised you, I disagree with her fathers' – and your father's – methods of punishment and I will not be hitting either of you with any belts or canes. Rachel, I now know you heard what I told Quinn but I'm going to say it again. I won't hit either of you out of anger, and even when I think your misbehaviour warrants a spanking, it'll only be with my hand and nothing more. And I think, right now, I'll implement another step. If I should ever need to punish either of you in any way, not just by a spanking, you'll be allowed to call Sharon first, or if you prefer, Quinn, you can call Maribel, and tell them what's going to happen. This way, both of you can be sure that nothing will ever happen in this house that I'm afraid people will know."

Quinn's eyes widened in surprise. Maribel would never allow her to be hit or abused in any way, so she should be safe.

"I'm glad that's all cleared up now. And now, to demonstrate how my method of punishment differs from your fathers, I'm sorry to inform the both of you that you now owe me punishment essays. Rachel, your essay will be on the ethics and consequences of eavesdropping. I just told you about eavesdropping, and then you went and listened in on my conversation with Quinn anyway." She held up a hand to hold off any protests. "Even if you had finished putting away the dishes as I told you to, you should have stayed away until I had finished talking to Quinn. We were definitely not talking all that loudly, and if you had remained near the sink or the cupboards, rather than at the kitchen door, you wouldn't have been able to hear our conversation."

Rachel nodded obediently. An essay was really no big deal, so she wasn't about to protest it.

Shelby turned to Quinn. "Quinn, your essay will be on the benefits of using polite and civilized language to express yourself. I warned you last night about rudeness, and the day before as well. I can't have you using words like "hell", "shit" and "fuck". I know you can speak better than that, and your school grades tell me that you have a sufficiently extensive vocabulary to express yourself adequately without having to resort to such uncouth language. I'm starting to recall you calling Rachel an "ass" last night as well."

Quinn threw Rachel a look of confusion and Rachel shrugged. "Mom is a teacher, and so she thinks essays are an appropriate method of punishment. And we get a week to write them too."

"If it's too lenient for you, Rachel, I can assign another one on interrupting. I don't recall asking you to explain on my behalf how you got the bruise on Saturday when Quinn asked either."

Rachel chanced a glance at Shelby's smiling face that betrayed her scolding tone. The lecture was clearly over and she wasn't being serious. Rachel scrunched her nose at her. "No, thank you, Mom, I won't interrupt you again."

"By the way, I did wish you to correct you on your version of the story just now. You made it sound like it was your fault for pulling away, but it wasn't. It was my job as your mother to make sure you weren't hurt by any of my actions, not your job to remain still even when my actions make you feel uncomfortable. I'm not like your fathers, you have my full permission to move away from me, to run away, to defend yourself if anything I do is hurting you."

She reached over and placed a hand on Rachel's knee. "In fact, I would appreciate it if you were to do that, to not let me hurt you, because hurting you is the _last_ thing I wish to do. I truly am sorry for grabbing your arm that way on Friday, okay?"

Quinn smiled. That little speech gave her more reassurance than Rachel's outburst that what happened with the mystery bruise had not been anything really serious. Rachel's words obviously couldn't be trusted in this regard if she could still go around justifying her fathers' beatings, but Shelby did look sincerely sorry for something as simple as grabbing Rachel's arm, and there was no lie in her eyes when she told Rachel that she didn't want her to just stand there and allow herself to be hurt.

The tenderness between the two, however, was getting painful to watch, and after about a minute of silence, Quinn decided she needed to speak up in order to get out of here as soon as possible.

"An essay due in a week, okay. How many words?"

"2000 words each, since they were both repeat infractions for the both of you."

Quinn fought the urge to roll her eyes at the stern voice that Shelby was trying to adopt, probably to try and impress upon them the seriousness of their 'infractions'. As though a 2000-word essay was really terrible a punishment to 'inflict' on either of them.

2000 words it was. Rachel was right, Shelby really did seem to think that essays had sufficient deterrent effect as a tool of punishment and Quinn wasn't about to disabuse her of that notion.


	50. Think about it

lemon-rind - Haha, yes. Quinn and Rachel are still teenagers and have typical teenage issues to be dealt with, but there are still hints of "brokenness and abuse" scattered throughout. And I love how you compared Quinn to Sue Sylvester! I didn't actually think of that when I wrote it, but Quinn does channel the vibes of a young Sue Sylvester.

CarmellaD'Winter - Haha, your story is funny. I imagine writing an essay wouldn't be all that hard for Rachel and Quinn either. I'm not sure about a spiteful essay from Quinn, given that she is still trying to get Shelby to keep her, but we'll see.

gogolax - I hear you. However, Shelby isn't saying that Quinn is going to be on the streets at any moment or that she is unloved or uncared for. Just the opposite, she's saying that she cares for Quinn will do her best to help Quinn find the home she needs. I believe Quinn is sensible enough to understand this, because unlike her parents or even the Lopezes, Shelby is a complete stranger and has no obligation to keep her.

NZgleek91 - Quinn is going to be pretty sad for awhile, I think. But I'll try to work something in (: and I'm glad you think there was less angst. Too much angst warps your soul.

Alese222 - She won't grow up bitter and mean! She might be on her way there now and eventually get there if she doesn't get help but she does have Shelby, Rachel, Britt, Santana and the Lopezes, and they'll keep her from that fate (: Her sleepover with Santana will be on Friday as usual.

Shana - Haha, yes. I think for Rachel, essays are a very good way for her to stop and think things through and hopefully, after this essay, there'll be less sneaky eavesdropping and its unwanted consequences. Quinn isn't any more sure about her placement, but at least someone has talked to her about it, which in my books, is better than nothing. She knows where Shelby (who is still a stranger to her) is coming from, and who knows, knowing how much Shelby is struggling might even inspire better behaviour from Quinn if she thinks it'll help her stay there.

Anon - Quinn won't be going from house to house... For one, I do not possess the imagination nor the experience with American foster care to come up with different foster homes for her, and for another - and more importantly, - yes, that would just be too sad.

StormBrisingr - "Everybody's got a dark side..." begins to play in my head. Yes, this story is dark, and sometimes I can't imagine it came from my head either. I'm glad you love it so much still., and can also see and appreciate the warm and fuzzy bits. Rachel will affect Quinn in many ways, hope you enjoy all (or at least, most) of them.

sdmwd1115 - Actually, this is just my opinion, but I think Quinn would rather be given an idea of what's going to happen than if she had no idea at all. If Sharon was to turn up the next day, and tell Shekby that there's a couple who fits all the criteria and wants to take Quinn in, she would be caught by surprise and that would be worse. Because at this moment, unlike Rachel, Quinn actually has a good chance of leaving, because Shelby simply isn't prepared to keep her. I intended for this to be a reflection of reality that shows how jarring the constant moving is for foster children. San and Maribel will be back soon, keep your eyes peeled.

btvscharmedgirl - Thanks! I think they will all be good for each other, and I hope that will be seen in my writing (:

JWilson18 - Yes, they're going back to school tomorrow (in story time, i.e. Wednesday)

olacindy - Haha, I've always found punishment essays interesting, it's like arguing against yourself, shooting down all the excuses you would otherwise have given your parents.

Rini - Both girls' therapy sessions this time will be discussed, though Rachel's in more detail than Quinn's.

GreenLemons - You're right in thinking that Rachel will fare better. I don't envy Quinn's therapist, heh. Give me a patient who talks too much over a silent patient, any day.

Guest - Thanks. I hear you, and I've discussed this in my A/N, simply because too many people are saying the same things and I thought it would be easier to reply everyone together (:

1moredreamer - At the moment, Quinn fully intends to keep her baby. The baby, after all, is the main reason why she's done everything she has done so far.

Guest - Haha, I love that imagery, and I can totally imagine Quinn doing that. As for therapy, even if Quinn doesn't share much, I think the act of going to therapy, of establishing a regular routine of doing so, would still be beneficial for her, just knowing that she has this option and open avenue to deal with her issues. In the long run, when she finally decides to open up or has something she wants to open up about, she would then have the opportunity to do so.

SA03 - Quinn doesn't actually know that she's not staying. She keeps saying it, but that's more because she would rather not hope than be disappointed, rather than because someone has actually sat down and made her current foster situation clear to her. Quinn is currently nowhere near coming to Shelby with anything, but things will change with time (:

shiniso – Hey! I'm sorry your laptop died, I hope it gets fixed soon. Glad you're still reading this fic (:

monprincess – Thanks (:

ArmadilloPretzels – Thanks, and the error has been corrected!

**A/N. As someone rightly pointed out, Shelby is not Super Mom. She has her own issues, which this chapter will explore more of. In the previous chapter, two actions of hers raised many comments.**

**1) Her honesty with Quinn. Quinn has, at every turn, insisted that she desires honesty from the adults in charge of her 'case'. However, most adults would know that children who ask for honesty do not usually know what they are asking for and caution still needs to be exercised in sharing information with them. Shelby, in this case, may simply be trying to be honest with Quinn, but I also think she projects some of her own desire for honesty onto Quinn, and perhaps shares with her more than she ought to. **

**2) Spanking. This issue was not scheduled to be discussed in this chapter. It's actually going to come up about ten chapters down the road, and I thought I would simply slip in that comment and see who notices it and what they think of it. (Essential for me, since I am well aware that I come from a very different cultural background than most of you.) I hear your opinions (although please do keep them coming if you haven't spoken your mind yet), and I will tread with extreme caution. When the time comes, there will also be opportunity again for people to give their opinion on what Shelby should do. Please don't worry too much about it now. **

Chapter 48 – Think about it

"I have to ask, did something happen between Saturday and today?"

"Yes. Rachel and I had a quarrel of sorts, and she brought up many... issues. Issues that she didn't want to talk to me about, so I asked her to discuss them with you instead. Which is why I called in for this emergency appointment for her with you. Why? Didn't she talk to you about what happened?"

"No, she didn't, not really," Dr Janet replied. She drummed her fingers against the table lightly before speaking again. "Let's just say, if she spent the last session defending her fathers, she spent this session defending you instead."

Shelby looked away. The psychiatrist's face was non-committal, probably a well-practiced face, given her profession, but she couldn't miss the accusatory undertones of the statement. The unspoken question rang loud and clear in her head - Did you do the same thing to her as her fathers had?

_Tell me – Convince me – you didn't abuse her like her fathers did_, Dr Janet urged silently in her head, as she waited for a response from Shelby that would hopefully either confirm or refute her suspicions. It seemed unlikely, given that Shelby had been the one who had called in for this appointment, but she couldn't be 100% sure. The similarities were too great for her to ignore, and the vulnerability of the brainwashed little brunette girl edged out the initial good impression she'd had of Shelby. She just needed to be sure.

To her surprise, after a long pause, Shelby began to tell her story without any further prompting.

Shelby told her everything. Starting with how tired and listless Rachel had seemed after the psychiatrist's appointment, how inattentive she had been during their short and awkward conversation about Quinn, even how she had almost called her "ma'am" instead of "Mom". She should have realized then that something wasn't right with Rachel but she stupidly hadn't, believing Rachel to simply be exhausted after a long morning of appointments.

When she continued on to talk about Rachel's obsession with and obvious anxiety about the essay she had written, she had to back track and discuss the circumstances that had led to the essay, the mop incident, Rachel's expectation of punishment and her own failure at handling it appropriately, sending Rachel up the stairs to write the stupid essay. She talked about the essay for a while, citing a few examples from it, which was easy enough, given that she had read it enough times to practically memorize every word of it.

Dr Janet urged her to move along after she cited her sixth quote from the essay, and she did so, briefly introducing Quinn before talking about how her arrival had caused tempers to flare on the part of both girls, how she had realized the two girls not only knew but apparently were at loggerheads with each other, but she couldn't turn Quinn out immediately because she had nowhere else to go. So Quinn had stayed, and they had even seemed to be trying to get along for a while. All had gone well until Rachel broke a dish at dinner yesterday and then, all hell broke loose.

It was then that she found out that Rachel had been suffering silently for the past few days, thinking that Quinn was her replacement. Shelby didn't even want to imagine the psychological torment her daughter had to have suffered these past few days except it was all she could think about since last night. The only good thing that came out of last night was that she finally found out what was troubling her daughter, and hopefully had been able to put Rachel's mind somewhat at ease.

She talked about how Rachel had sought her out later, in the middle of the night, but instead of waking her up or crawling into bed with her, had simply knelt beside her bed and fallen asleep. She told her the crazy memory that Rachel had shared with her when she had woken up although she had clammed up when she asked about the nightmare that had brought her to her room in the first place, although she did admit to having nightmares quite often. That was when she decided that if Rachel couldn't talk to her, she should at least have someone, for example a trained professional like her psychiatrist, to talk to instead.

Dr Janet took it all in wordlessly. It was a story as ridiculous as it was dramatic, and it left no doubt in her mind that it had to be true. No one could have come up with a story like that. Briefly, she wondered how so much could have happened in the four short days from her last appointment until now, and how Shelby could still be awake and walking around after all of that. She already felt exhausted just having had to listen to it.

When Shelby looked like she was about done, Dr Janet spoke up again.

"This is all actually quite new to me. All Rachel told me was that she broke her plate last night and ruined dinner for the three of you, but that you didn't hurt her and then she went on to sing your praises a little too much that it raised my suspicions."

Shelby sighed. "I told her to share openly with you, I didn't really expect her to…"

"I think it might be a little much to expect her to trust me so readily, but hearing your two versions of the story has definitely given me a much better understanding of the psychological headspace she is currently inhabiting."

"I really didn't hurt her. She was at least honest about that. I did punish her, assign her an essay on the ethics and consequences of eavesdropping, which was what had started this whole mess in the first place. I briefly considered assigning one on the importance of communication but figured I would have to assign myself that one too, considering how poorly I'm doing as well, in that department."

"You blame yourself. For not getting Rachel to share her misconceived notions with you earlier."

"How can I not? If I had figured it out earlier, that she had overheard that conversation, or even just noticed that something was wrong, all this could have been avoided. And her insecurity about living with me… I can't believe she thought I would kick her out at the slightest misstep! That I would 'replace' her. It's an idea so inconceivable that it never even occurred to me until she said it last night. And the worst part is, it was _my_ words that had planted that thought in her head in the first place! My own stupid frustrations at my inadequacy at looking after her and venting about it to her social worker... and here I am doing the exact same thing to her psychiatrist again!" Shelby felt a sudden urge to pull out all her hair. Why was she breaking down like this again? This wasn't her. She wasn't usually this volatile and emotional.

Dr Janet nodded. She could see Shelby was frustrated and it was easy to understand why.

"This eavesdropping, did it occur before or after my appointment with her on Saturday?"

"Before, just right before, actually, because I was speaking to her social worker in the next room while she was waiting to see you."

Dr Janet nodded. "I guessed so, since I thought I remembered something about mine being the last of the day."

"Why do you ask?" Shelby queried, wondering where the psychiatrist was taking this.

"To point out to you that even though I, a 'trained professional', as you put it, met her right after her eavesdropping, when her emotions were most likely still the most raw and fresh, I couldn't tell either. You can't be expected to read her mind if she doesn't tell you these things."

Shelby shook her head. "I still should have known that something was wrong and pushed her to tell me what it was. I should have seen that she was scared and angry and insecure, instead of just brushing off her change in behaviour as tiredness or problems adjusting or teenager spats with Quinn."

"I couldn't tell either. Your daughter is very skilled at putting on a brave front, Ms Corcoran. She isn't quite as skillful at manipulating more subtle emotions, but she definitely knows how to put on that bright smile of hers and act like everything is fine. For the past nearly fifteen years, she managed to deceive everyone in her life that her fathers and home life were fine when they so obviously weren't. If she didn't 'explode' last night, I doubt if _anyone would be able to tell if something was wrong with her."

"I guess… It's just, I feel like I'm just not good enough."

"All parents feel that way, Ms Corcoran. And I would imagine, with what Rachel has been through, that feeling is very much intensified for you. But what's important is that you love her and she loves you and that's the basis of any successful parent-child relationship."

"I know. But at the same time, she's also afraid of me, and I don't know why or how to stop it. When I walked in here just now, you also thought I had done something to her. What did she say to you, sing my praises about how good I am to her and how well I look after her? Because she's said those same things to me before, countless times, except like you said earlier, she was referring to her fathers. And those words don't mean anything when I see the welts and bruises on her back, when I see how little she eats, how skinny she is… when I know how horribly they treated her! You thought I was like her fathers, and sometimes I wonder if to her, maybe I _am_ like her fathers. Maybe that's why she's so frightened of saying the wrong thing about me and over-compensates in the worst way possible."

Dr Janet sighed. "I'm sorry if my tone was accusatory just now. Rachel's behaviour just seemed too well-rehearsed and I do confess I was a little suspicious. However, given what you've just shared with me, the context of what has happened between the both of you for the past few days, I have to alter my interpretations of her words and behaviour."

"Honestly, I think the past few days have been trying on her, which is why she reacts in the only way she knows how, by smiling and acting like nothing is wrong, believing that by acting like everything is fine, everything will be fine. I don't suppose her fathers put much stock in communication and sharing of feelings and she has learnt to keep everything inside, to not open up to others no matter how much she is hurting inside. To simply absorb every hurt inflicted on her, whether it's emotional or physical, and just get on with whatever she's been told to do, hoping that through her obedience, the people in charge of her, whether it's you or her fathers, will be appeased. If her behaviour seems well-rehearsed, it's probably because she has had too much practicing it for the 15 years she was with her fathers, rather than because of the short time she has spent with you."

"Another thing is, I should probably give you the head's up that I don't think she truly believes that an essay is all the punishment that you're going to assign to her."

"But I've told her it is, and she didn't refute me."

"That doesn't mean she really believes it. She probably didn't want to argue with you. When she told me about 'ruining' dinner yesterday, she still sounded rather... apprehensive. You have to understand, her worldview is undergoing a tremendous change. She still doesn't understand that her fathers were too strict with her, and doesn't understand that you are the normal parent here when you assign essays for misbehaviour like eavesdropping and dismiss a ruined dinner without another word. She's still holding her breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Shelby nodded with a heavy heart. "She did say that yesterday, that if I kept on forgiving her, I would run out of patience with her one day, and when that time comes, I would either hit her or kick her out."

"Yes. Hitting her was what her fathers would most probably have done, and kicking her out was what they eventually did, or at least, that's the way it played out in her mind, so she expects the same of you too. My suggestion would be that if she doesn't bring this up with you again in the next few days, you should speak to her about it, preferably just the two of you, without Quinn or anyone else around. She's had to put up an appearance for others for too long, and so have her fathers, and it would most likely be easier for her to believe you if the two of you are alone, and you are clearly not putting up an act for anyone else."

"Okay. I can do that," Shelby found herself agreeing, even if inside, she was wondering how she was expected to convince Rachel when all her previous attempts had obviously ended up as miserable failures. What else was she supposed to say, what had she said wrong and what was she supposed to do differently from their previous conversations?

Clearly, her feelings were not hidden well enough, because Dr Janet reached over and touched her hand lightly, as though to comfort her.

"Just keep trying. Rachel will come to see your sincerity. She may be frightened of you, yes, but she loves you very much too. You're good to her, and you're good _for_ her, and with time, the two of you will be just fine."

"Thank you for your encouragement," Shelby said quietly. "I'll try my best."

"I know you will," Dr Janet replied, patting her hand lightly before letting go. "Another thing, you are alone in this town without family or friends, right?"

"Yes," Shelby replied.

"I hope you do not take offense at this, but I have just one more suggestion for you. Perhaps you might want to consider getting your own psychiatrist."

Shelby blinked. What?

"I'm just concerned for you too. Rachel is not the only one who has undergone a traumatic experience, you have too, and it has got to be a daily struggle for you, having to look after her."

"I don't mind it. I _want_ to look after her."

"I don't doubt that, but it's taking its toll on you all the same. Add to that Quinn, who from what I hear, has got her own set of psychological trauma to deal with as well, and compounded by your being without friends or family, I think a psychiatrist would be helpful for you. Besides, I'm a child psychiatrist, not an adult one, and more importantly, I'm your daughter's psychiatrist, not yours."

"Okay, I'll think about it."

"Alright, I think we had better call Rachel in now. Good thing she's my last patient of the morning, because we're about thirty minutes into my lunch break now."

Shelby checked the time on her watch and blanched, only now realizing how much time she had spent talking to the doctor. She was about to apologise, but Dr Janet cut her off.

"Don't worry about it, I completely understand. Just think about what I said about getting your own psychiatrist, okay?"

"I will. I'll think about it."

…

Quinn flipped open her phone, then closed it again. Shelby sure was taking a long time in there, and two seats down from her, Rachel was getting antsy, fidgeting about in her chair and wringing her hands together. No way was Quinn going anywhere near her – the only reward she would get would be having her ears talked off by the nervous girl, and Quinn had enough of Rachel Berry Crazy for awhile. She needed a moment to herself to think about things.

At least Shelby hadn't spoken to her counselor like she was currently talking to Rachel's psychiatrist.

The counseling session had been even weirder than the psychiatrist's. The lady – and boy was she thankful that they had assigned her a female and not a male – had been oddly cheerful and refused to be put off by her surly attitude. When it had become clearly that there was no way Quinn was going to talk, Ms Holiday had started a one-sided conversation about herself and the things she liked to do, the different jobs she had done in the past. To be honest, Quinn thought the woman was slightly insane, too chirpy to be normal, and seriously, what kind of a name was 'Holly Holiday'? She was, however, thankful that she hadn't been forced to talk or contribute to their 'conversation', and with Ms Holiday chattering away happily, it hadn't been as awkward as it had been with the psychiatrist.

Quinn glanced at the door. Seriously, Shelby was spending forever in there with Rachel's psychiatrist.

At that moment, the psychiatrist's room door opened and Shelby stood in the doorway, inviting Rachel in. Quinn smiled at Rachel and lifted her fingers slightly in the semblance of a wave. Slightly encouraged, Rachel took a deep breath before following her mother into the consultation room. As the room door closed, Quinn flopped back down against the chair again. Hopefully they would get out of here soon. She still had to see Nurse Martha after this and she really didn't like spending so much time in the hospital. It made her feel smaller or weaker somehow.

Quinn flipped open her phone again and scrolled through her messages idly. Santana had messaged her a few times yesterday and Quinn had answered most of them with 'I'm fine' and 'Don't tell B yet', but when Santana had asked her yesterday evening 'How's the freaky Ice Woman?' Quinn hadn't been sure how to respond. And of course, events later in the night had driven the text message out of mind for awhile, and she hadn't gotten around to replying Santana yet.

How _was_ Shelby? The first word that came to her mind was 'nice' or 'kind'. Despite her admittedly terrible behavior so far, she had been unusually kind to her, letting her off on most of her rudeness and disobedience with barely a slap on the wrist. She was almost as nice as Maribel, except that she had known Maribel for years and she was friends with Maribel's daughter, whereas Shelby hardly even knew her, and had known from the first day that she and Rachel were at odds with each other.

Honestly, in these past few days alone, Shelby had really been much nicer than her own mother had been for the past few years, and so nice, in fact, that it was almost painful to accept her kindness and not think about how, or why a strange woman who barely knew her would be nicer to her than her own mother of 16 years.

The second word, however, would have to be 'strange'. Not just simply because she was too nice, it was more than that. This morning's weird 'punishment' and the even weirder conversation before that... Shelby had _thanked_ her. Thanked _her_, the biggest tormentor of her daughter Rachel! If Rachel's fathers had been responsible for Rachel's horrible home life, then certainly, the main culprit of Rachel's terrible school life had been Quinn. And yet Shelby had thanked her, for some measly few words of kindness, and if Quinn was being honest, she would have admitted that they hadn't meant to be kind, but rather, had been said in exasperation to counter Rachel's warped thoughts.

Quinn sighed. Maybe the question about Shelby was so hard to answer because it came dangerously close to asking Quinn about the most important thing about Shelby that that she didn't really know how to talk to Santana about – that Shelby was Rachel's mother, that she was now living with her once-nemesis, Rachel Berry.

Quinn could think of a million and one ways in which Santana could respond to such a revelation, and not one of them was complimentary. In fact, most of them involved a whole bunch of Spanish swear words, and some scenarios might even result in Rachel being hurt or at least, threatened and frightened out of her wits. Two weeks ago, she would have joined right in with the Rachel bashing but in light of what she now knew about Rachel… She sighed.

Where should she even begin? If the mother was strange, the daughter was downright absurd.

Seeing Rachel's absurd behaviour last night had been a total shock to her system. Her once-nemesis, normally so confident and self-assured, sobbing brokenly like that over a stupid broken dinner plate... Except it hadn't really been about a broken plate or a dinner ruined - Rachel had thought her mother was going to replace her with Quinn! How that thought had even rooted itself in Rachel's brain was unimaginable to Quinn, although it did explain why Rachel had been so nice to her, so insistent that they show her mother they could get along.

Why she had agreed to defer to you and even take your punishments for you?, that annoying voice in her head whispered.

It wasn't her fault, she protested internally. That girl was just crazy, there was no doubt about it. And it was no wonder why, really. As much as she wanted to, Quinn simply couldn't get that image of Rachel's back out of head. 12 days since her last punishment, and her bum looked even worse... Rachel's fathers had clearly been insane assholes who had taken pleasure in hitting her often.

"_So Dad had to punish me many times, which meant the beatings overlapped and the accumulation of punishments made the result look worse than each individual punishment actually was."_

Quinn shuddered. No wonder Rachel was such a goody two shoes, studying hard all the time, never getting into any trouble... Never retaliating when getting slushied or bullied around by Quinn and her cronies? Because she was used to far worse abuses at home? The thought tasted bitter in Quinn's mind, the idea that she could have been to Rachel at school someone similar to her abusive parent at home...

Like Russell?

Quinn clenched her jaw fiercely. She would never be like him. Never.

But the truth of it was that she had. She had regularly hurt a defenseless girl who had never really done anything to her, and intentionally made her time in school hell on earth. Her only faults had been to be unpopular and friendless and hence an easy target, and too perfect that she made Quinn burn with jealousy... Which made her terribly annoying, yes, but neither had been valid reasons to hurt someone like Quinn had hurt her.

Why had she even been jealous of Rachel anyway?

Of her perfect grades? Clearly, she studied hard, and probably deserved those grades she had earned.

Of her singing abilities? Rachel practiced hard at that too, Quinn should know - she had practiced equally hard at cheerleading to achieve all that she had.

Of her perfect loving, doting fathers? That sounded entirely preposterous now, now that she had been given a glimpse of what kind of monsters those men really were.

Honestly, Quinn didn't know how she would answer her best friend, if Santana were to ask her what was going on between Rachel and her now. 'It's complicated' would probably send Santana into fits of laughter about 'Faberry' romance, but it was true, it _was_ complicated. Not only their past but also their present - living with Rachel and being less popular than her now that she was off the Cheerios and Rachel was still some weird honorary Cheerio... By the way, was that why Coach Sylvester had tried to make Rachel a Cheerio, to protect her? Coach had been the one to report her to social services after all...

No, there were just too many thoughts vying for her attention right now that she was going to get a splitting headache if she tried to consider all of them. First her 'complicated' relationship with Rachel...

The only thing she knew was that she had a lot to make up to Rachel for. Not just because she needed to get along with Rachel in order to stay on Shelby's good side, which would hopefully translate to staying at Shelby's house. Even if Shelby were to kick her out today, she would still want to try and make things right with Rachel, she owed her that much. Rachel may have accepted her apology the day they sang her 'Who I am hates who I've been', the same day she had turned down Quinn's offer to slushy her, but now, Quinn wondered if Rachel had really understood just what Quinn had been trying to apologise to her for.

And that was perhaps the real reason why she was so apprehensive about talking to Santana about Rachel. If Santana couldn't even understand why she would leave the hospital with Shelby on Sunday, how would she ever accept that in the space of three days, Quinn had gone from mortal enemies with Rachel to wanting to befriend her? Not just the fake Coach Sylvester enforced detente either, but a real friendship.

If Rachel would have her for a friend.

If it came down to having to choose between her best friends and Rachel, she honestly didn't know what she would do. Brittany and Santana were really her only friends at school, and the Lopezes, especially Aunt Maribel were an important part of her life, probably the closest thing to a family she had right now.

She sighed heavily. Maybe just for a while, it might be okay to keep this from her friends - just for a little while, until she figured out what she was going to say.

'She's okay,' Quinn's fingers typed out on her phone. 'Hasn't sucked out my blood yet if that's what you're asking.'

Santana's reply came quickly: 'Good. I totally though she had when you didn't reply last night.'

'Sorry, took an early night. Had to go back to my house to get my things yesterday.'

'Ouch. You ok?' Santana replied. She thought about the state which Quinn had been in when she had first climbed through her bedroom window at collapsed on her bed... Returning to the house which she had escaped from mustn't have been easy at all.

'I'm okay. It's over and done with. I did manage to get my car?'

'Alright... Listen, is there anything I can tell B at all? I hate lying to her.'

'Can't you just tell her I'm sick? It IS true.'

'It's still lying and it sucks. And I did try telling her that, and she wanted to visit you but how the hell is she supposed to do that if she doesn't even know that you don't live at home anymore?'

Quinn sighed. Santana certainly had her character flaws, but if there was one thing she was, she was honest to a fault. Lying was hard for her, especially lying to Brittany.

'Fine, you can tell her about Shelby, okay? Just say my parents were bastards, and I'm living with her for a while, she doesn't need to know the details.'

'Thanks. Can we visit you?'

'I'll be back in school tomorrow, why do you want to visit?'

'To check out where you're staying, make sure you're okay.'

'To yell at Shelby some more?'

'I'll try not to, I promise. C'mon, you know I won't yell as much if B is around.'

'Nope, no can do. But Shelby did agree to let me sleep over at your house this Friday, and we can hang out then, okay?'

'Making B wait 3 days is like making her wait forever...'

'I don't have to leave early on Sunday morning to go to church?'

'Alright, alright. You take care.'

'Yea, thanks.'

'See you tomorrow.'

'See you.'

Quinn closed her phone and signed. Santana was right, lying by omission was still lying too, and she hated the idea of not telling Santana about Rachel. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. If even Quinn could work out her differences with Rachel, then maybe Santana could too? Unlikely, given how her life was panning out these days but she could always hope.

She sighed again. She would think about it and figure it out in due time. Besides, Rachel and Shelby were coming out of the room now, and they had one last stop to get to before they could all get out of this hospital.


	51. Thinking about it

musomusi – Wow, thanks! Rachel is seeing a psychiatrist because that's what children who have undergone severe abuse do. Psychiatrists are equipped to diagnose psychiatric conditions – anything from depression/anxiety to PTSD, substance misuse or even multiple personality disorder – and yes, treat them accordingly. They usually follow them up for at least a year, because some conditions not present at the time of 'rescue' can sometimes present much later. It is often easier for the same doctor to carry out the psychotherapy, that's why Rachel is also having regular sessions with Dr Janet. Dr Janet likes to involve the parent at the end of therapy, to get a different perspective if you will, important in someone like Rachel who has such a warped perspective, that's why she's meeting Shelby too. Quinn, if you recall, also had to see a psychiatrist, but because she was so hostile towards the idea of having to see a psychiatrist, she will have psychotherapy sessions with a counsellor/psychologist instead. She will still have to see the psychiatrist about once a month for the minimum 1-year follow-up I mentioned earlier. (Disclaimer: This is how Singapore does things. I don't know if USA is different – my understanding is that Allied Health professionals there have a much bigger clinical role than those in Singapore.)

NZgleek91 – Haha, yes, I don't think the angst will ever be all that far, for all three of them XD

CarmellaD'Winter – Haha, yes, that was actually my intention – Having the psychiatrist say that to Shelby was meant to push her towards getting a closer friend in Maribel, not just for her own sake but also for Rachel's. And Quinn's.

Shana – Haha, increasingly, I think I have a tendency to do that. Right the 'before' and 'after' of big conversations, and leave my readers to imagine what the actual conversation was like, especially if the conversations are too long for me to want to write out in full. I think it's more fun this way. The conversations (like Rachel's session with Dr Janet, or Quinn's with Ms Holiday) probably went the way most people infer it did, but the fun part is the emotions and thoughts the characters took away from the conversations, and how it impacts (or does not impact) their lives thereafter. I agree that Shelby should talk to Ms Holiday too, but honestly, she's still awkward around Quinn, wanting to get involved and care for her, but not wanting to go too far such that she invades her privacy. It's a balance she will have to work out eventually.

lemon-rind – I'm glad you enjoy Quinn's perspective, since it's the one I have most problems writing (still). I would suggest it feels less self-involved perhaps because she steadfastly refuses to deal with anything truly personal and avoids such conversations like the plague, not just with other people but also within herself. Her thoughts are mainly practical – how to get along with Rachel, how to appease Santana, how to get Shelby to accept her, how to get by at school. At least, that's what I think. How goes your pondering?

StormBrisingr – Weekly updates will probably have to be short, heh. Shelby does need her own people, but I feel, at this point, based on what she knows of both Rachel and Quinn, she really feels that she should be devoting her time and energy to these two girls. That's why she's been struggling on her own these past weeks, and that's also why I had Dr Janet point out to Shelby that for the sake of the girls, she needed some help or at least, some companionship. Brittany does come back when Quinn returns to school but more insight into her inner thoughts will probably only come during the sleepover (:

Alese222 – Perhaps Quinn _should_ prove that she wants to be Rachel's friend but that doesn't mean she will, because Rachel doesn't ask for it, and in fact, shows such appreciation that Quinn would even consider being her friend. Kind of like how most (whole, healthy and undamaged) children take their parents' love for granted, knowing they will always have it without any proving on their part. Quinn, however, does realise to a certain extent that she does not deserve Rachel's ready acceptance, and that will motivate her to make more of an effort towards Rachel.

1moredreamer – No, Holly Holiday is going to treat Quinn, while Dr Janet will treat Rachel.

olacindy – Yes, I think Quinn is more of an introspective person, and unlike Rachel, seems to have more sensible insight of herself. As for what she does now, I think it's more interesting for me to tell you the story then to just tell you what she does next (:

Rini – Haha, yes, that was the rationale behind making Holly Holiday Quinn's counsellor. She's someone talkative enough to occupy the time while Quinn remains silent, observant enough to notice changes in Quinn's mood/affect, and also enough a good listener for when Quinn finally decides to talk. The only alteration I will make to her personality is that she's here to stay, and she won't be changing jobs constantly, unlike in canon. That would be terrible for Quinn's long-term care, especially if Quinn grows to trust her.

GreenLemons – I haven't actually thought of a scene for Holly yet, but I'll keep the idea in mind (:

Guest - Quinn did see a psychiatrist previously (Chapter 35: Visitors) but the psychiatrist decided that she was too against the "psychiatrist" label to progress much with her and thus transferred her weekly care to a counsellor. I'm guessing she also thought that Holly Holiday's unique personality might be a good match for Quinn. The psychiatrist will see her once a month, just to make sure she's not developing any psychiatric conditions that requires further medical treatment. You're not supposed to believe that Quinn is not traumatized, but Quinn hopes you will believe that because she thinks it would make her life easier. She just wants to forget about everything without doing the hard work dealing with all these issues. It's hard for everyone else to show concern for someone who doesn't want to be cared for.

SA03 - Haha, I'm glad you like that. I want to talk about their therapy, but don't want to type out an hour-long conversation. Observing and pondering is the only thing that's doing something for Quinn now, mainly because she's not talking to anyone, stranger or not. Nurse Martha doesn't appear in this chapter - she mainly has a very professional nurse-patient relationship with Quinn because that's what Quinn wants from her.

Anon - Shelby will certainly be making friends with Maribel. Like you said, she's someone she can turn to on a daily basis.

ArmadilloPretzels - Haha, yeah, I think many people feel that way :P

shiniso - Lol, yes. I didn't really fancy writing an hour's (or 50 minutes') worth of that kind of a conversation either. Even in canon, she has a pretty one track mind and harps on and on about it until she annoys everyone to death XP Anyway, you're right, in short, Rachel needs to look at other people/things besides herself and Quinn needs to stop looking at other people/things and turn her gaze inwards... Oh well, at least it shouldn't be too hard to get them happier, considering where they are at now XD

Guest – Thanks (: Haha, why the guilt? As long as the angst and drama is fictional (written to be enjoyed) rather than in real-life (where people should get off their asses to help those in need rather than simply enjoy watching them as many do) I won't be writing ALL the way till their recovery, but I intend to settle most of their major issues before writing an epilogue of where they end up many years later, so yes I won't end this fic without sorting things out for them. My only fear is that I may not be able to finish writing this fic given my current schedule, but I'll try my best.

rainbowbright108 – Wow, thanks! I feel very honoured (:

Chapter 49. Thinking about it

Quinn insisted on seeing Nurse Martha on her own, so Rachel and Shelby both took a seat on a bench in the waiting area. Neither mother nor daughter spoke, both lost in their thoughts.

Funnily enough, the appointment with Dr Janet had made her think of her fathers, even though she had largely talked about her mom. When both her mom and herself had seen the psychiatrist together, Dr Janet had informed her that her mom had told her what had really happened for the past few days. It seemed like Shelby had been really serious about wanting her to be honest with her psychiatrist.

That was probably what had caused her to start thinking of her fathers, because that instruction was so different from what her fathers had taught her. Appearances were important, they had always emphasized, and she had to present the right picture, to allow everyone to think that her family was picture perfect, and if she couldn't, to at least reassure others that her parents treated her well and never hurt her. Otherwise, she could be taken away and possibly lose her fathers forever.

But she had been taken away anyway, despite her best efforts, and given to her mother. And Shelby seemed to have no fear of that same thing happening to her, going so far to say that if anything she did raised suspicions, she would probably deserve whatever came after that. She wanted a blanket honesty about everything to everyone. It was bewildering.

Especially in contrast to her fathers, who would have thrashed her terribly if they found out everything she had told so many people about them. Like last night, when she told her mom about what had happened when she was ten.

Still, even if her fathers didn't want her anymore, at least she had the comfort of knowing that her mom wanted to keep her, at least for now. Forever, Shelby had promised, and she had sounded so sincere that Rachel really wanted to believe her. She had been so apprehensive of getting kicked out for the past few days that she clung onto that promise like a lifeline. Things that were too good to be true usually weren't.

At least Shelby hadn't kicked her out last night, she told herself. Even if she maybe could have gone against the court's orders and returned to her fathers' home to beg them to take her back in, she was relieved that it hadn't come to that. The punishment she would have gotten for that would have been unbelievable, and she shuddered to think of how she might have coped with it after being treated so well for the past two weeks. Because her mom really did treat her very well – far too well – and she was in danger of being pampered, of not being able to withstand her fathers' punishments.

Having to remain still and silent as she was hit repeatedly, having to continue doing squats even when every muscle in her body was burning and screaming for relief, to keep on running even though her lungs were on fire, to lie in bed at night but unable to sleep despite being complete exhausted, because no comfortable position could be found and also because her stomach was so empty, it felt like the churning digestive juices were gnawing at its fleshy lining. And then after all that, to drag her pain-wrecked and bone-weary body to school the next day, to sit down in classes on her literally blistered bottom, to sing and dance when every note and every step caused her bruised ribs to scream in agony, and to smile and behave like everything was okay when she just wanted to curl up somewhere and sob her hear out…

If she were honest with herself, she didn't want to have to withstand those punishments either. These two weeks with her mom, being fed everyday, never hit, never over-worked, it had been like a vacation, one that she didn't want to return home from. She knew it was terrible of her, but she couldn't help it. If she were a better daughter, she would be more grateful to her fathers for all their efforts at disciplining her and training her to be a better daughter, student and performer, but deep down inside, no matter how hard she tried, she was more thankful to her mother for _not_ doing all of these things. Even if that made her mother confusing to live with as well, this good living was something she could seriously get used to.

If only there was some way to let her mom know just how grateful to her she truly was.

As though on cue, Shelby reached over and nudged Rachel gently. "Earth to Rachel, what are you thinking so hard about?"

Rachel looked up at her mom. "I… I was thinking about uh, how much I wanted to thank you."

"What are you thanking me for?" Shelby asked, curious. She had just lectured and punished Rachel this morning, and she was pretty sure teenagers were supposed to be grouchy for the next 24 hours after that, not thankful. Especially in light of what Dr Janet had said about how Rachel was probably not convinced that this was all the punishment she would be getting.

"I... Thank you for having me here, for coming here for me and for letting me stay with you in your home, even now when I've done so many stupid things, caused you so much trouble."

"Rachel, honey, my home is your home now too. I had hoped you realized that. That's what I meant when I told you that nothing you do could ever drive me to abandon you. You belong in this home every bit as much as me."

"I... I keep thinking it's just temporary. After my fathers dropped off my things after I screwed up with what happened at CPS, I've just been so afraid that you would kick me out when I screw up too. I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Mommy, but I was just so worried..."

"It's okay, Rachel, I understand."

Rachel shook her head. "No! Please, Mommy... I don't think my fathers would let me go back to live with them anymore, after what I did to them. They are probably so angry with me right now… I need to stay here, I really really want to stay here with you, please. I'll do anything you want as long as I get to stay with you."

"I know you will, Rachel, but you don't have to. You belong here with me, you don't have to do anything for me to earn your right to stay here because you are my daughter and that in itself gives you the right to live with me forever. I mean, I hope you'll continue to be obedient and studious but those are not criteria upon which your living with me is contingent upon. When you mess up, I'll just punish you with essays, with extra chores, with grounding and that will be the end of it. I will never get tired of you and I will never abandon you. I left you once when you were a baby and that is the biggest regret of my life. I'm never leaving you ever again."

Rachel nodded. She thought for a moment before speaking up again. "Mom, you told me to talk to you if I overheard anything, right?"

"Yes," Shelby agreed, hoping that Rachel hadn't overheard her rant to her psychiatrist.

"I... I overheard what you said to Quinn this morning. When you told me to put away the dishes?"

Shelby smiled, relieved. "I think I pretty much figured that out when you interrupted our conversation halfway to give your own version of what happened last Friday."

Rachel smiled sheepishly but her mom didn't look all that angry, so she continued. "I was listening in before that too, when you told Quinn about how you're not sure how long you can let Quinn stay with us."

"Yes, what about it?"

"You don't intend to keep her like you said you were going to keep me?"

"Yes, her placement was never meant to be for too long, just a temporary placement while Sharon finds her somewhere more suitable and permanent."

"What if she can't find anywhere?"

Shelby remained silent. Honestly, she didn't know either.

"Mom, do you remember when I first met you at CPS?"

"...Yes?" Shelby replied, startling a little at this sudden change in direction, feeling awkwardly not in control of the direction of this conversation. Besides, that day, with all its misunderstandings, awkwardness, and terrible revelations, ending with her daughter being admitted to the hospital for a concussion, was not one she really wanted to remember.

"I was really scared of you... You were so nice to me, but I was scared anyway, because everything was just so different from what it would have been if I had gone home to my fathers that day..."

Shelby nodded, wondering where Rachel was taking this conversation. What Rachel's fathers might have done to her for 'fighting' in school was not exactly something she really wanted to be thinking about, especially after she had seen what they had done for other more petty misbehaviour.

"And the past few days, when I thought I was going to leave you and everything would become so unknown again... And it hurt so badly too, because you've been so good to me, and I hated the thought of having to leave you, hated that my misbehaviour and inadequacies might be the reason why you didn't want me anymore."

"Rachel..."

Rachel shook her head. "This isn't really about me. I know you want to keep me now, and I'll try my best to be worthy of that. This is about Quinn, actually. I was just thinking that she must be so afraid too, coming here to a strange home, especially now that she knows this isn't permanent..."

"Are you asking me to keep her as well? Permanently?"

Rachel chewed the corner of her lower lip and nodded her head slowly. "Yes... Maybe? If she needs it?"

"Would you really be okay with that? "

"I think so. We do have an extra room, right?"

"It's not just about living space, you know."

"I know. And I know asking you to adopt her now is a little too much to ask. But could we... Could we keep her for as long as she need it... Or maybe even as long as she wants to stay here? If she doesn't want to leave, maybe we don't have to make her go?"

"Isn't her presence the reason why you started feeling so insecure in the first place?"

"But that's just me, you shouldn't abandon her because of me. I mean, it's true that I felt so terrible and insecure about being thrown out by my fathers but I still have you. Quinn isn't so lucky, she only has two parents, both of whom are now in jail... She shouldn't be left to feel insecure about being "temporary", she shouldn't have to wonder if she still has a home to stay in tomorrow."

"This is a big change, what prompted you to change your thinking?"

"It was Quinn, actually. She told me to consider your feelings, that you might feel hurt and also that She told me she wouldn't steal you from me. It made me think about how she might feel too, about being here. If I'm still getting used to her being around, she must be feeling that same awkwardness about adjusting to the both of us too."

"Rachel, tell me honestly. Are you okay with having Quinn around? I don't mean just sharing your room, because she'll be getting her own room soon. I mean having her living with us, day in day out."

Rachel nodded quickly.

"What about your initial conflicts with her?"

"We're trying to work things out. I mean, it's hard, but since she's come here, she's been nicer to me than she has ever been before and I think it'll be okay. We'll be okay."

Shelby nodded, but still wasn't convinced.

"Mom, if she wants to leave, she can go. If she hates me and wants to leave, she _ should _be allowed to go. But if she wants to stay, we should let her stay. More importantly, I don't want you to make her leave because of me. I've already said, I can do a lot of things to help out, like chores and accompanying her for her appointments, or even look after the baby when it comes, which should make things easier for you. And she can drive us both around so you don't have to. Keeping the both of us would really make things much more convenient for you, and you would have more time to teach your students and do your own things."

"My convenience is hardly my main concern. My first priority is you. You are the reason why I came here in the first place, and also why I took her in."

"So if I want her to stay too, can she stay?"

Shelby sighed. Rachel was clearly not going to let this go until she gave her some kind of answer. "I'll think about it, okay?"

"Okay."

…

"Where are we going, Mom?"

"To the mall to get some furniture for the guest room. I'll probably try to have it delivered on Saturday, since the sound proofing of my office should be completed by Friday. You could move in there when you return home on Sunday."

"Oh. Okay," Quinn replied. 'Home?' she wondered filing it away for future reference

Silence resumed in the car, which was perfectly fine by Quinn, since she was beginning to realise how rare moments of silence would be now that she was sharing a house with Rachel. However, something else caught her eye.

"How did you get that?" she asked, frowning as she pointed to Rachel's knees, where a faint patch of bruises could be seen just below each knee cap.

"Dance injury," Rachel dismissed easily. "I landed badly…"

"Excuse me?" Quinn interrupted, peeved at the obvious lie. "Those weren't there yesterday, and now they are, so unless you were out dancing in the moonlight last night, I'm pretty sure those weren't from any kind of dance practice."

Rachel winced. _Oops?_ "Sorry, old habits die hard." The lie had come so easily that she hadn't even thought about it before she said it. She looked at her mother helplessly, unsure of what to say next.

"Please tell Quinn the truth, Rachel, or as much of the truth as you're comfortable with. I've told you, there is nothing that happens or will happen in our home that I'm afraid to let others know about."

… Right. "Sorry, Mom," she apologised. Running a hand through her hair nervously, she explained to Quinn how she had been caught kneeling beside her mother's bed the previous night.

Quinn nodded understandingly, tying in Rachel's explanation with what she had seen last night. 'Old habits die hard' indeed, she turned over in her head, wondering just how much of Rachel's words to her in the past few years had all been pure lies.

…

"Good night, Rachel," Shelby said, as she kissed her on the forehead. Rachel wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and replied "Good night, Mom," with a wide smile on her face.

Out of the corner of her eye, Shelby caught Quinn staring at her from beside Rachel. There was hunger in her eyes, as well as longing - she was clearly envious, and Shelby wondered if she was thinking about Judy, wishing her own mother was here to do the same for her? Had Judy kissed her good night as well? She chose not to mention it though, because she couldn't see any good that could come out of it. Shelby was all Quinn had now, and she would simply have to try her best to be a supportive adult figure in the girl's life.

She walked over to Quinn's side of the bed and when Quinn gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod, she kissed her good night too. It was a small peck, barely half a second, but she could feel Quinn trembling beneath her, and again, she wondered what the blonde was thinking. She didn't refuse though, and when she replied "Good night, Shelby" softly, there was a hint of a smile on her lips, which Shelby chose to take as a good sign.

As Shelby left the room, Rachel still staring adoringly after her mother, Quinn reached up to touch a hand to her forehead. She had been afraid yes but nothing had happened. When Russell kissed her, wet, rough, sloppy and full of lust, all she had felt was shame, hatred and fear; when Finn kissed her, the memories of him had still caused her to panic, and find a way to escape. This was the first time in a long time that a kiss had made her feel cared for, almost loved.

"Thank you," she whispered into the darkness, even though she knew Shelby was long gone.

She looked across the bed at Rachel with envy, wanting a mother like that as well. Whatever shit had happened with her fathers, obviously it was all over for her now, and she would be living with her mother forever but Quinn was still impregnated with her father's child and all too aware that her stay here was only temporary.

...

As Shelby walked away from the girls' room, she recalled Rachel's words thoughtfully.

Her daughter was right, of course. Quinn was insecure and afraid just like Rachel had been, the only difference was that Quinn truly had no one to depend on, not even a single parent.

She sympathized, she really did. She remembered the day after she had graduated, packing up her bags and leaving her home...

"_If you go to New York, we'll cut off all ties with you."_

"_I will never say another word to you until I get onto Broadway."_

Words had been said that day that she now regretted, but that day, driving away from the only home she had ever known, had been one of the hardest things she had ever done, even if it had been her own choice. She might have only expressed anger outwardly, but inside, she had been so afraid. The subsequent few days, she had felt so lonely, and even when she had stayed with the Berries until her pregnancy, she had been distinctly aware every minute of the time she had spent there that it was not her own home.

_"The state pays you to take care of me. I get that."_ - That was one of the first few things Quinn had said to her when she came into her home. It was a feeling Shelby knew well. No matter how nice the Berry men had been to her when she lived with them, she had known that she was only there to provide them with a daughter.

If Quinn wanted to stay, could Shelby really allow her to? Going from a single, independent New Yorker just coming to terms with the fact that she was unable to bear any more children, to becoming the mother of two daughters in Ohio, in the space of two weeks was a huge jump, but really, since she already knew she was going to keep Rachel for as long as she lived, was having two daughters that much different from having one?

She would sleep on it, she decided, and maybe talk to Maribel too. She may not want to get a psychiatrist, or have many friends in Ohio, but Maribel was becoming somewhat of a friend to her. As for family, even if they only lived a few hours away in Akron, Ohio, and she did miss them terribly, things were already complicated enough now, without adding into the mix, a family whom she had not spoken to for 15 years. She might be back in Ohio but she simply couldn't deal with them now.


	52. Dilemmas

Alese222 – Is it another American thing to not keep in touch with your family after high school? Because I think after not speaking to her family for 15 years, Shelby has a lot to tell them about, including yes, her two new daughters. Quinn's therapy session is over because they've already left the hospital, headed home and gone to bed, so it won't be covered in this chapter. I'll cover more of their returning back to school before we move into Quinn's sleepover.

rainbowbright108 – I hope so too. I agree that outwardly Quinn is mostly the one helping Rachel, but I think that in a more subtle way, Rachel is a big help to Quinn too, especially since Quinn isn't all that accepting towards conventional avenues of help such as therapy. If anything, Rachel's forgiveness and continued friendliness towards Quinn despite their previous history makes Quinn less angry… at least, she seems much less angry than she was, at the hospital. I guess what I mean to say is, Quinn helps Rachel by saying and doing things whereas Rachel helps Quinn (however oddly), simply by being herself, which is much less dramatic and probably more often overlooked, but no less important.

Shana – Yeah, she's gone from angry at the hospital to sad with Shelby/Rachel… Plus considering what was going on before she ended up in the hospital, she certainly hasn't been happy for the longest time.

ajunebuga - Yay (: The title actually wasn't just want for Rachel's thoughts, but Quinn's and Shelby's as well.

Kay2 – Shelby is definitely going to keep Rachel permanently, but I think CPS would require her to start off with temporary guardianship with close monitoring before she can move on into adoption? The only question here is whether, on top of Rachel, Shelby is going to adopt Quinn too. I know Rachel has barely had a mother to herself for two weeks before she has had to share, but at the same time, it's hard to see how sad Quinn is, and how she literally has no one left in her life, plus she's got a baby on the way. It's easy to say that there are millions of orphans in this world, and we can't help all of them but it's not as easy for Shelby to ignore when the girl (Quinn) is living in your house, staring at you everyday, and actually helping your own daughter. She can at least help this one. That said, it is a difficult decision, which is why she's taking time to think about it.

NZgleek91 – Haha, I actually generally dislike teenage angst over inane things, but in this case, given their circumstances, I think all three of them are entitled to all the angst in the world. As for Rachel being Quinn's advocate, I think that someone needs to be, because Quinn clearly isn't advocating for herself. Rachel, having just gone through the whole 'feeling alone and insecure about her placement' drama, has a better understanding what Quinn has to be going through now after Shelby's talk about her being temporary, and is in the best position to share that with Shelby.

KC1991 – Yay, the girls do return to school in this chapter. Not that dramatic, not so much yelling, but it seemed to fit somehow. Hope you like it (:

ArmadilloPretzels – Okay okay, message received. To continue your observation, the more fragile Quinn feels, the tougher she acts. It's her defense mechanism.

olacindy – Yup, they are both moving forward, slowly but surely (:

Future -Styles – Yay, thanks (:

CarmellaD'Winter – Shelby's past has been in the plan right from the start, but it won't be a big part of the story. That was just to explain why they aren't in the picture yet despite the major upheavals going on in Shelby's life. As for Quinn, I think given how devoted Shelby is to Rachel, Rachel has to be the one who wants Quinn to stay first, before Shelby will even consider that possibility.

1moredreamer – Wow, thanks. You always type such long reviews, I really appreciate them. I have to confess, more drama is on its way, which is why I thought it was a good idea to get the three of them together and consolidate the progress they have made before more things happen that throw everyone off their game… Cryptic enough? :P

Rini – I think so too. I think, after having lived with Russell and Judy for the last 16 years of her life, Shelby is someone Quinn would very much like to stay with. And of course, Shelby's tenderness towards Rachel reminded her of Frannie, and while it made her sad/nostalgic, she clearly sees Shelby as someone who is not just harmless, but also someone she can trust to look out for her and keep her safe. As for Rachel, I think she really only wanted Quinn out if she threatens her position with her mother, but after she eavesdropped on Shelby's conversation with Quinn, I think she realized that Shelby has always meant to keep her (Rachel), and it was Quinn who was meant to be just a temporary placement. (For once, eavesdropping did Rachel some good!) That made her think of Quinn for a moment, and after just having been through the whole 'feeling alone and insecure about my own placement' fiasco, she was able to put herself in Quinn's shoes and empathise with Quinn's situation, which prompted her talk with Shelby.

JWilson18 – Rachel, of all people, understands how Quinn must feel right now, having just gone through the whole 'feeling alone and insecure about my own placement' drama herself, for the past few days in fact. She is not the most selfless of people, but even she can empathise with Quinn, especially now that she no longer sees Quinn as a threat to her own placement with her mother.

Anon – It's a sudden change from yesterday, yes, but it's not without reason. Many things have changed since last night – Firstly, she has finally been convinced that Shelby intends to keep her, and secondly, after eavesdropping on Shelby's conversation with Quinn, she has suddenly realized that in Quinn's words, the 'temporary' one is Quinn, not herself. She is able to understand what Quinn is going through now, and now that Quinn is no longer her competition, she doesn't want to put Quinn through the same thing she had had to go through for the past few days, not if she can do something about it.

Emerald Stag – Haha! Yes, that was one of my reasons for actually writing out the Shelby rant in full, to show that although she wasn't put through an abusive situation unlike Rachel and Quinn, she has also been put through the wringer these past few weeks, and yes, with very little warning at that. Things haven't been easy for her, so hopefully her little mistakes and oversights can be forgiven by those who judge her too easily from their high horse (: As for Rachel and Quinn, yes, they are gradually going to care for each other now that, as you said, they are literally in the same boat. It's a little difficult, given the enemies that they used to be, but I think they're getting along nicely and on their way to becoming friends, maybe even sisters (:

GreenLemons – Yes, Shelby will be getting more support from Maribel than from her family, at least for now. She may be doing fine so far, but emotionally, she's already showing cracks (like her breakdown with Dr Janet), and it's only been two weeks. Much as she's clearly trying to keep herself together for her two girls, she will need whatever support she can get.

StormBrisingr – Quinn and Rachel's previous enmity was based on warped views of each other, and I hope that as those views readjust and they see each other in a new (and truer, clearer) light, they'll find it easier to get along too. You're right in that Santana is going to react badly to the whole Quinn/Rachel situation, but hey, that just makes for more great drama! :D

Guest – Shelby does realize, to some extent, that Quinn is sad, lonely and frightened. Unfortunately, there isn't much Shelby can physically do to help her except to hang around and be there for her. It's not like with Rachel, where she bursts into tears and Shelby can just hug her and kiss her tears away. Quinn, due to her previous sexual abuse from her father, is wary of being touched too, as can be seen from her reaction to a simple goodnight kiss, and honestly, short of long-term therapy work to bring down her walls and break her out of her defensive shell, I don't see much that Shelby can do for her.

Guest – I'm glad you're so excited for it. I really hope Shelby eventually adopts Quinn too (:

SA03 – Haha, yes. Quinn has been very sad, but she has more advocates than she knows. Fingers crossed indeed :D

monprincess – I hope so too (:

**A/N. This is the 50****th**** chapter, so I decided to send in the update earlier than usual, as a gift! We are also about 20 days away from the story's 1-year anniversary, which is pretty exciting. I never thought I would see this day, mainly because I had previously thought this story would be completed way sooner, but apparently, I'm a more long-winded writer than I knew. :P**

**Anyway, enjoy! (:**

Chapter 50 - Dilemmas

Rachel looked sideways at Quinn. "Are you going to tell others at school that we're now living together?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

Rachel shrugged. "Up to you. It might come as a shock to most of our schoolmates who have witnessed our regular uh, confrontations, and may require a fair bit of explanation regarding your… situation. However, if you want to tell them, we should settle on a mutually agreeable story now to make sure our two versions line up with each other. If you don't want to tell them, then I would suggest you drop me off at least one block away from school so as not to raise suspicions as to why you are driving me to school."

Quinn pulled up by the roadside. Rachel's lengthy speeches seriously took some getting used to, but she did make some sense this time.

"Would you mind doing that?"

"Walking one block to school? No. I'm sure you're aware that I used to walk to school from much further away."

"I guess." Quinn made up her mind quickly. "I would actually like to wait on telling others, if you don't mind? I need to tell Santana and Brittany first, and until I've done so personally, I'd rather they not hear it from someone else."

"Okay. It's okay, I understand."

"Really? You're usually not the best at lying." _Except, apparently, when it involved your fathers and the various abuses they heaped on you._

"But I do understand that this is important, and I'll keep it a secret. Along with your other secrets… I won't tell anyone, I promise."

Quinn nodded, grateful that her other question was now answered too. "Thanks."

Rachel, however, had one more question to ask. "How are we going to treat each other at school? I mean, you've been uncharacteristically nice to me so far, but that was at home. I will completely understand if you do not wish to associate with me at school but I would like to know beforehand so I can be mentally prepared and behave accordingly."

"You're an honorary Cheerio now, remember? People are not supposed to bully you or shun you anymore. I'm sure we can manage to maintain a perfectly civil relationship at school as well, no one should suspect a thing." Quinn paused. "I'm sure I can manage it as well."

Rachel smiled. "Thank you, I appreciate it. It would be rather difficult to remember to behave differently around you in different settings especially when there will undoubtedly be overlaps now that we're living together. Alright, we're just three blocks away from school and it's still very early, so I might as well walk the rest of the way from here. Thank you for the ride, Quinn, and I'll see you at school."

With that, she got out of the car, pulled her bag out and closed the door before Quinn could think of something to say.

Quinn sighed, which was honestly the only response she had in her. She really hated this feeling of not knowing what to do.

...

"Quinn!" The exuberant shout was the first thing she heard when she opened her car door. The next thing she knew, long arms and a blonde pony tail slammed into her, and she found herself wrapped in a classic Brittany Pierce hug.

"Oof," she grunted as the blonde practically tackled her, but she righted her center of gravity with long practice and gladly returned Brittany's tight embrace, clinging onto her more tightly than usual. Truthfully, it felt good to be around someone as uninhibited as Britt, especially after these past few days of trying to be in control of her actions and emotions and being around people who were trying equally hard to do the same.

It was almost as if Brittany sensed how much Quinn needed this hug too, as she held her for longer than was normal, even for Brittany.

"I've missed you, Quinn! San said you were sick and I was so worried, but she said we couldn't visit you because you're currently living with someone called Shelby, although she prefers to call her Ice Woman, which sounds scary but cool at the same time, like she has magical superpowers!"

"Slow down, B," Quinn informed her as she untangled herself from Brittany's long limbs. "Yes, I've missed you too, no, you needn't have worried, and yes, I'm staying with a woman called Shelby. She doesn't have superpowers, but she's cool and not scary at all, and I'm sure you'll like her if you meet her sometime." _Once I've figured out how to tell you about Shelby's daughter too. _

"Yo, Q," Santana greeted, as she walked up from behind Brittany, although at a much less hurried pace. She jerked her head towards Britt. "She couldn't wait to see you, much like a little boy we both know?"

Quinn smiled both at the sight of her tow best friends and at the thought of little Santino. "The two of you were waiting for me?"

"Puh-lease," Santana began to deny it but Brittany beat her to the punch. "San said we should walk in with you because today is your first day back not in Cheerios uniform, and it might be hard for you."

Quinn raised her eyebrows at Santana, who shrugged, not denying it either. Quinn smiled, "Thanks." It was nice to think that even though she hadn't seen her best friends for the past few days, they hadn't forgotten her.

Brittany grinned. "We're like, your bodyguards! So where do you want to go to first?"

...

Santana and Brittany couldn't protect her forever, however, especially since they had different class schedules.

All day long, people stared at her, and some of the more daring ones would drop snide comments at her. People she had used to bully saw her dropped status as a prime opportunity for revenge and senior Cheerios in particular, took delight in seeing the sophomore who had beat them to the Captain's position being taken down a peg or two.

In particular, Pamela, a senior Cheerio, took great delight in torturing her any chance she could. She had previously been insanely jealous of her given that she had been the next in line for Captainship before Quinn had appeared, but had tried - and failed - to hide her envy, trying - and failing again - to curry favor with Quinn instead. Now that Quinn was no longer even on the team, she had apparently decided to drop all pretense.

"Surprised at the change in my attitude? Wondering why I'm no longer behaving sickly sweet towards you? Because I can. I'm now more popular than you, you're not even a Cheerio anymore."

Quinn pursed her lips and refused to say another word, choosing to adopt the same strategy as she remembered Rachel doing, holding her head high and keeping a smile on her face, ignoring their stupid comments, refusing to play their game. Hopefully, this way, she could get through the day with some of her dignity intact.

Undaunted, Pamela lifted a finger and poked at Quinn's clothes. Quinn flinched away and glared at her, but Pamela only smiled.

"Hmm, something's different about you…" She intentionally poked at Quinn again, and this time, Quinn forced herself to not move away.

"Oh wait, I know, it's your clothes. Did you forget your Cheerios uniform, _Captain_?" Pamela asked, turning to Beatrice, her trusty side-kick.

"Oh, sorry, I think she meant _ex-Captain,_" Beatrice complied in a snotty voice, even as she steadfastly refused to meet Quinn's eyes, staring instead at a spot on the wall behind her.

Pamela, however, felt no need to show such restraint. "Hmm, I think I know what would improve your appearance. A slushy."

"You wouldn't dare," Quinn spoke up at last. She fixed her most icy glare at her former teammate, but it, seemed without the power of her previous Captain's status to back her up, it lacked its previous forcefulness.

Pamela only smirked and sauntered away without another word, leaving the threat hanging in the air.

Beatrice hurried off behind her, only too glad to be out of that awkward exchange. Quinn had been a good Captain and whatever she had done to get herself kicked off the team - or maybe she had just gotten unlucky on one of Coach's random explanation-less rampages - she didn't really deserve this treatment. However badly Quinn had treated others in school, especially that Rachel Berry girl, she had always treated her own Cheerios respectfully, especially the seniors. Kicking her now when she was down just felt wrong somehow.

...

Quinn signed. Just last week, she had been laughing at Rachel for hiding in a washroom cubicle, and here she was now, hiding out in her car during lunch. But she was honestly exhausted, and it was easier to hide out here in the parking lots than to face everyone in the cafeteria.

The worst part of the day hadn't been the staring or the mean words. The worst part was that all day, other than Santana and Brittany, no one had had a single kind thing to say to her. People who had always been friendly with her, whom she had always considered somewhat friends, either stared at her without a smile or a greeting, or looked away when random assholes said mean things about her. It was as if no one knew what her social status was anymore – probably because it was practically unheard of for the Cheerios captain, the one untouchable person in the entire school, to be kicked off the squad – and no one wanted to commit a social faux pas by associating with her until things were clearer.

Surprisingly, the only people who had even smiled at her all day were the Glee club members, and the only person who had stood up for her was Rachel Berry. The midget was just full of surprises these days. Quinn had thought that Rachel would stop being so nice to her now that she knew her place with Shelby was secure, but apparently not. Her words in defense of Quinn had predictably had no effect on Pamela though, who only turned on Rachel instead. It was only Santana's appearance which had eventually managed to get rid of Pamela and her cronies.

While Quinn was thankful, the subsequent interaction between Santana and Rachel, where Santana told Rachel to "get lost, Berry," only served to remind her of her divided allegiance between the two girls. Rachel hadn't seemed to mind, however, just smiling at Quinn and nodding her head at Santana before walking away.

Quinn had thanked Rachel but it still didn't feel like it was enough. Rachel had stuck her neck out for her, and without the 'Cheerios captain' protection that Santana possessed, things could have gone south for her pretty quickly too. Quinn knew that she would need to figure out sometime soon how to tell Santana and Brittany about her living situation with Rachel. It wasn't fair to Rachel.

How far the mighty have fallen, she thought to herself, needing Rachel, of all people to come to her rescue. If simply getting kicked off the Cheerios had caused her to drop this far, what would everyone at school do when they found out that the reason for her expulsion was that she was pregnant? What if anyone ever found out about Russell and what he had done to her, or God forbid, that the bastard was also the father of her baby. She would be the butt of all jokes, and she would never be able to live it down, ever.

She sighed, remembering how proud she had been when she had first made captain just last year.

_It was the first training after Nationals, by tradition the day which Coach would announce the retirement of the seniors and with them the Captain, and the appointment of a new one. Everyone was in a state of euphoria, just barely coming down from the high of having won their 7th National Championships. The juniors, in particular, were all a twitter, excitedly discussing who among them was going to be made the new Captain and vice-Captain. They all agreed that it was probably going to be Pamela or Beatrice the only question was who would take which position. A third but far more unlikely candidate was Alicia. She was good but not as talented as the other two girls but more importantly. Her parents had made huge donations to the team in the past year, a contribution that Coach would no doubt want to encourage._

_"The new Captain will be Quinn Fabray, and her vice-Captain will be Santana Lopez," Coach announced in her usual direct manner, no preamble necessary._

_The stunned silence that followed that announcement was deafening, followed by a chorus of voices commenting loudly on this unprecedented feat. The only person who sounded happy was Brittany, everyone else was in a state of shock, most of all Quinn and Santana. They had both suspected that this day would come one day, but for the both or them, it was two years too early. What was Coach thinking? No sophomore had ever been made Captain before, much less a freshman! _

_The next few weeks were filled with the bitchiness of teammates and seniors alike but together, Quinn and Santana managed to silence all their murmurings and bring the squad together. _

_Despite her icy facade, everyone could see that Quinn was really happy. Everyone assumed it was because she had achieved the impossible, arrived at the pinnacle of popularity despite being a mere freshman, but that wasn't all there was to it. That night, when she had informed her father of her new position, he had been pleased with her, and even told her "good job". It was such a rare occurrence that not even the constant memory of Frannie could spoil it. _

_Like Quinn, Frannie had managed to get onto her school's cheer leading squad as a freshman, but unlike Quinn, she had never made Captain. Moreover, Frannie's school had not been as good as McKinley's - it had regularly made it to Nationals but had never won it, unlikely McKinley, which had won it for seven years now. She had achieved something important to her father, and for the next few weeks, she lived on cloud nine until her 15th birthday came and shattered her happiness forever._

Quinn shook her head. That wasn't something she wanted to think about, ever. Thankfully, she was saved from her unruly thoughts by a knock on her car window. It was Santana.

"Where's B?" she asked as she reached over to unlock the door on the passenger side for her friend to get in.

"She's with Mike, choreographing a new dance number to perform tomorrow. Tomorrow is kind of like our auditions for Sectionals?"

"Oh. Right." She did recall Rachel mentioning it on Monday, which made it odd that she hadn't seen Rachel preparing any numbers of her own, although she supposeed Rachel had been rather otherwise occupied these past few days. Weird, she wouldn't have thought anything short of a natural disaster would stop Rachel Berry from demanding and getting at least one solo at Sectionals.

"Don't know why they bother, the midget diva will probably claim all the solos for herself anyway," Santana continued, almost as though she was reading Rachel's mind. "Did you know, she didn't even come to school yesterday? Probably too busy preparing twenty thousand numbers to bore us with tomorrow. Still, Brittany enjoys it and doesn't really care about not winning, so what the hell."

Quinn nodded non-committedly, not trusting herself to say anything. Of course she knew that Rachel hadn't been at school yesterday, and why, she had spent the entire day with her after all. Words refused to emerge from her mouth though, so she simply shrugged in response.

"What's up with you, Q? Are you really okay?"

"Yes, S, I'm fine. How many times must you ask me before you'll believe me?"

"Fine," Santana said. "I'll stop nagging as long as you actually tell me when you're not fine, okay?"

"Okay," Quinn agreed, silently reminding herself that the bullying from Pamela and the others was mild at best and nothing she couldn't handle. They just needed to get it out of their system, and she could handle a few days of crap. Besides, she had dished out much worse, and being on the receiving end of it now was kind of like poetic justice.

"How's the Cheerios?" Quinn asked, wanting to change the subject.

Santana looked sideways at her friend, wondering if, of all the things in the world, that was really what she really wanted to talk about. Recalling her mother's words of advice that perhaps speaking about mundane things such as cheer leading might be what Quinn needed, she decided to go along with her.

"It's okay, I guess. It isn't the same without you."

"How so?"

"It sucks," Santana replied honestly. "The seniors are bitchier than usual, giving me a whole lot of shit about me replacing you especially that Pamela bitch. And Coach is on my ass about everything all the time, and I really don't like this organizing, paperwork shit."

"You'll get the hang of it. You're an even bigger bitch than me, than all of them combined, you'll figure it out."

"I don't want to have to." Santana leaned back against the backrest and looked out of the windscreen, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful. "I don't think I can do this without you."

"I'll help you," Quinn assured her. "And you'll figure it out. You have to stick with it, please? You promised."

"Why? Why does this mean so much to you? If the seniors want it so bad, they can just take it, man. We'll have our chance again next year."

"Because when I made captain in freshman year, those juniors, who are seniors now, gave me hell for beating them to the position. I don't want to see their smug faces now when they finally get it, and they will get it if you give it up to them."

"Fine," Santana hmphed. "But you're going to make it up to me."

Quinn raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"How the hell did you climb up to my room?"

Quinn blinked. "What?"

"I tried to do the same, on Monday. Couldn't do it."

Quinn's mouth twitched into a near smile. "You what?"

"Whatever. I wanted to see if I could do it too! Besides, you had sprained your ankle jumping down from your bedroom window, not when you climbed up to _my_ window, so I figured it should be a piece of cake. I didn't think it would be all that hard, it was freaking dark that night and you looked like shit, just ran all the way to my house, and had just sprained your ankle but you still managed to climb up to my window and hang there one-handed while knocking on my window for at least half a minute before I let you in, how the hell did you do that?"

_I was desperate_, Quinn thought silently but didn't voice it out. "What happened?"

"Didn't get halfway up before my sorry ass landed back on the ground and alerted my mom to come running out looking for me. She gave me an earful _and_ took away my phone for the rest of the day."

Quinn laughed, her first genuine laugh in a while. The mental imagery was just ridiculous.

"Whatever, Spiderwoman," Santana retorted indignantly but was at least relieved to see her friend laughing. Hopefully, if she was still able to laugh, she really wasn't all that bad.

The bell signifying the end of lunch rang, and both girls grabbed their bags to head back in for their next class.

"S?" Quinn called as they got out of the car.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," she said quietly, hoping Santana knew it wasn't just a thank you for standing up for her. She was grateful for that, of course, but she was even more glad that Santana didn't treat her like a fragile porcelain doll, or treat her like a freak like the rest of the school was doing. Besides, all that talk about how to climb the wall had almost made her forget why she had needed to climb it in the first place. And if there was one thing she wanted to do, she really just wanted to forget everything that had ever happened.


	53. Just try and avoid my nose

ekcandyapple – I'm glad you enjoyed it, and you're welcome (:

rainbowbright108 – Given that many of my readers are high school kids, I hesitate to agree with you :P Yes, Quinn is very brave, and she's really going to need all the courage she can find within herself.

monprincess – Yay (:

NZgleek91 – I hope so too, but not yet. I think things are too hard now for her to want to make things even harder just yet.

Shana – You're welcome (: As for Santana, it'll take a lot for her to warm to even the idea of befriending Rachel, but I'm not ruling it out yet.

Alese222 – Quinn wasn't mean to them when she was captain, I had hoped that was clear. Anyway, Rachel has been back at school for sometime now, she just missed school yesterday because Shelby made her a last-minute appointment. No one really made a big fuss about her absence (the only mention I gave to it was Santana's offhanded comment to Quinn in the car), which I felt says more about her status at school than any kind of drama would have.

SA03 – You're welcome. Quinn was good to the Cheerios, but people will always be mean and jealous when a girl two years their junior stole Captainship from them and they were forced to listen to Quinn. I'm still not sure if Sue (or someone else?) is going to do something about this.

olacindy – Glad you liked it (:

JWilson18 – You'll find out Santana's reaction soon, but there's more drama to be had first ^^

StormBrisingr – Rachel will start to have friends, although it's hard to imagine her suddenly having such a close friend like Santana is with Quinn. Such friendships are built up over years, not days. Over time, though, yes, she'll have more friends than just Quinn.

CarmellaD'Winter – I'm not sure if Santana is actively making a decision to not let what she knows about Quinn affect her relationship with her. It feels more to me like she has no clue what to do about what she knows, like how she's uncharacteristically hesitant with Quinn.

Future -Styles – Thanks (:

Rini – Yay! Yup, even if she's still actively avoiding all her issues, she still has drama to participate in in the present moment. I'm glad you noticed how Santana and Brittany both contribute a different kind of protection for Quinn. As for your question about Rachel, no one's bothering her now, any more than usual at least.

1moredreamer – Whoa, those are seriously big events, I was actually just talking about regular drama like in this chapter. You have many ideas, though XD

lemon-rind – Yup, I was definitely going for a lighter mood when I added that. 'Light' stuff has been hard to come by in this story.

Anon – No, it hasn't, and things are going to get worse at school before they get better.

Guest – Jail is definitely the intended endpoint for Mr Russell Fabray. In fact, that's where he probably is at right now.

Emerald Stag – I think, from Rachel's point of view, Quinn is the one doing her a favour, considering she used to walk all the way to school (back when she lived with her fathers) and now only needs to walk one block. And Quinn is also the reason why her status in school improved and she no longer gets daily slushy facials, so she's just returning the favour.

GreenLemons – Haha, yes, I liked writing Santana's little story. Santino and Santana also made Quinn laugh with their antics at the hospital too, and yes, for a girl who tries to be a bitch, Santana is pretty funny. Santana is pretty similar to Quinn in that she prefers to forget horrible things rather than deal with them, but I think that's what Quinn needs at this moment. Brittany too, with her innocence, her genuine concern, and her infectious cheerfulness. As for your question, no verdict was made, and honestly, I haven't really decided either. XD

Chapter 51. Just try and avoid my nose

"So can you get pregnant by hot tub, right? Even if like, there's no uh, _contact_?" Finn asked, jabbing his fingers in a crude gesture.

"What? No, of course not!" Rachel exclaimed, rolling her eyes. She tried to ignore his hand gestures. He had been right, she realized, this was the world's most awkward topic for a girl to be tutoring a teenage boy in, especially a boy she had found kind of cute before this.

Just a while more, she reminded herself, a few more minutes before we have to pack up and go for Glee and escape from this extremely awkward tutoring session.

"Have you been listening to a single word of what I've been teaching you? You should really pay better attention, Finn, your Biology test is tomorrow, and you should already be able to answer _that_ question by now! Penetration needs to take place _before_ fertilization, so obviously contact is a prerequisite."

"But maybe if the water was the same temperature as body temperature, the uh, guy's stuff could swim through the water..."

"No! Absolutely not!"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive! Why would you think that a hot tub of all things could get a female pregnant anyway? It's absolutely ridiculous! "

"But I thought... Quinn said..."

And just like that, with those last two words, it suddenly dawned on Rachel why Finn was so insistent on checking if a girl could get pregnant via hut tub. The realization filled her with dread.

However, she had to be sure. Maybe... Maybe Quinn had given Finn Biology tutoring before her? Because if Quinn had said such a lie to him about her getting pregnant because... Rachel's mind was racing, the implications of this were just too enormous for her to take in all at once.

"You and Quinn? You never..."

"No!" Finn shouted. "Wait, you know, don't you?"

Rachel looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Quinn had clearly told Finn some made up story about getting pregnant via hot tub because of the temperature of the water (Seriously?), because Rachel knew for a fact that Quinn was definitely intelligent enough to know that hot tubs could not have gotten her pregnant.

And Quinn couldn't have lied about the pregnancy either. Besides having no reason to cook up such a lie, Rachel had also seen the prenatal vitamins, and knew that the pregnancy was real. However, this begged the question of, if she and Finn hadn't done anything, who was the father?

"Tell me!" Finn yelled, bringing her attention back to their current conversation.

"I can't..." Rachel refused, remembering her earlier promise to keep Quinn's secrets. She was determined to try her best to keep it, even though the situation was fast getting out of hand. "You have to talk to Quinn, I don't know anything, please, I have to go. _We_ have to go, there's Glee club now anyway..." she added weakly.

"You know!" Finn shouted. "You know something and you're not telling me! You know she's pregnant and you said she can't get pregnant from a hot tub but she lied to me, she said she could and she did, and that it's mine! But that's not possible if she can't, because we haven't done anything else..."

Shit! No matter how dumb Finn was, he was clearly putting two and two together.

"Finn... Don't..." Rachel placed one hand on his shoulder, trying to placate him.

"Get out of my way!" With a shout of fury, he pushed Rachel to one side and stormed out of the room. Rachel rushed after him but it was clearly too late.

Finn stomped down the hallway and when he didn't see Quinn anywhere, he stormed into the choir room.

"You!" he shouted, when he spotted Quinn sitting in the choir room. "You lied to me!"

Quinn's eyes widened in surprise. What was Finn talking about, she wondered, suddenly afraid of the answer. Rachel ran in behind Finn, looking guilty as hell, further intensifying Quinn's fear. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat, trying to maintain her composure.

"What did she say to you? Don't believe her, please, I didn't lie to you! I wouldn't!"

"You told me I got you pregnant because we shared a hot tub! But she said there needs to be pen- ugh, damn it, contact or whatever, that they can't just swim through the bath water no matter what fucking temperature it is... Right?" He looked around, glaring at his teammates. "Right?"

No one dared to look him in the eye, and most of them were still reeling in shock with the relevation that Miss President of the Celibacy Club _and_ Christ Crusaders was pregnant, the faster ones catching up to the added drama that she apparently hadn't been made pregnant by her boyfriend. Could this get any more daytime television cliché?

"Nothing to say now? No more lies you want to tell me?" Finn growled. By this time, he was standing in front of her, so close she could feel his breath on her face, his large frame towering over her.

Quinn visibly cowered away from him. She was honestly afraid of him by now. Not just afraid of some memory he caused her to remember of Russell but actually afraid of him. He looked _furious_, almost like he was about to hit someone any moment, and he had never acted this way towards her before.

"Don't, Finn! Don't hurt her! I shouldn't have said anything to you, I'm sorry!"

A small figure appeared behind me, squeezing himself between the couple and pushed him away with all her strength, which wasn't much at all, but he stumbled back a few steps anyway, caught by surprise.

Rachel turned to ask Quinn if she was okay but Quinn responded only in anger. "How can I be okay after what you did? Am I supposed to be thanking you now? For what, defending me against him? You told him! You promised me you wouldn't tell anyone and of all people, you told him!"

"I didn't know, Quinn. I swear, I didn't know he wasn't the father. I was just tutoring him in Biology and he said some ridiculous thing about whether it's possible to get a girl pregnant by hot tub... I didn't know he was talking about you! I didn't know you were the one who had told him that he had gotten you pregnant by hot tub, so I told him it wasn't possible without thinking... I didn't know until it was too late, and by then I couldn't stop him..."

"Stop me?" Finn yelled. "Like it's _my_ fault for wanting to know the truth? For the past one week, I've been going around thinking I'm going to become a father in a few months, wondering if I should be looking for a job, when all this while you were just lying to me, makinga fool out of me! You act like you're so religious, so pure and innocent, but really you're just a slut, sleeping with someone else behind my back, then trying to get me to believe that the baby is mine!"

"Argh!" With a shout of fury, he kicked out at the chair beside him and stormed out of the choir room, leaving behind a silent, still stunned room. What the hell had just happened?

Whispers began to build up in the wake of his abrupt departure. "Quinn is pregnant?", "Finn's not the father?", "So who is the father?", "Who has she been sleeping around with?"

Quinn let out a choked sob and fled the room as well, too ashamed to face anyone.

…

Quinn sat alone in the corner of the Biology classroom. It was ironic that this where was she was sitting given that the whole debaucle had started with Finn's stupid tutoring here, but it was the only empty classroom she had been able to find, and more than anything, she really wanted to be alone right now.

Finn knew. Finn knew the baby wasn't his. And based on the ruckus he had just created, by tomorrow, the whole school would know that she was pregnant, and worse still, pregnant with a child that wasn't her boyfriend.

_Everyone was going to know. _

Everyone was going to think the same thing as Finn - that she was a slut who slept around.

_Everyone was going to know. _

Her baby was not going to have a father. No boy, no matter how sweet, would agree to be her baby's father under such circumstances. Finn definitely wouldn't.

_Everyone was going to know._

And when her baby grew up, everyone was going to know he was born not just out of wedlock, but also out of an incestuous relationship, out of rape...

There was still so much more they could find out, so much worse things they could know about what had happened to her, the origin of her baby. This was bad enough in itself but if they found out about those too… it was just too much to think about.

"I'm sorry," a small voice said in front of her, startling her out of her thoughts.

She looked up. Rachel. Definitely not a welcome visitor, but then again, she supposed no visitor would be welcome at this point in time. She really just wanted - needed - to be alone now.

Taking a deep breath, she fixed her gaze at the smaller girl standing in front of her. She didn't say a word - there was no need to. Rachel would start speaking soon enough. She wouldn't have come if she didn't have something to say, and honestly, Quinn had no words for her at this moment.

Rachel felt her mouth suddenly go dry. How could Quinn make her feel so nervous just sitting down?

You did wrong by her, she reminded herself. You told Finn her secret, and even if you didn't mean to, it doesn't mean anything to her, doesn't change the fact that Finn now knows.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel repeated, meeting Quinn's eyes. "I fully understand if you want to beat me up. If you can, just try and avoid my nose."

Quinn stared at Rachel. She wanted to. Oh, how badly she wanted to. She wasn't proud of it but she couldn't deny it either.

It wasn't really that she was truly angry at Rachel about seeing through her lie and informing Finn of it either. The way Rachel had explained it, she had been tutoring Finn in Biology when he had foolishly asked if he could get a girl pregnant via hot tub. His stupidity really knew no bounds, but then again, she had already known that, had taken advantage of that very fact when she had lied to him. What she hadn't anticipated was that his idiocy could have caused her her secret.

So no, she wasn't really angry at Rachel, she realized. She was just pissed off in general, pissed off that she had made such a stupid lie that was so easy for Rachel to see through, pissed off at the circumstances that had forced her to make such a stupid lie, and pissed off that the reprieve had lasted for such a short time, and now the lie was out there – everyone knew the truth, that she was a slut who had gotten herself pregnant by someone other than her boyfriend. At least she hoped they would think she was a slut who was sleeping around because the alternative – that someone would figure out that it was her fucking father who had slept with her, was too painful a thought to bear. She would never be able to show her face in normal society again, if _that_ secret ever got out.

And now, Rachel was still standing in front of her, eyes squeezed shut and waiting for – for what? A slap?

It was honestly tempting but she held herself back. A sudden image flashed across her mind, of Rachel on her knees, begging Shelby to hit her and not to leave her. She recalled the welts and bruises and scars she had gotten a glimpse of on the girl's back, and the nonchalance with which she had regarded it, the behaviour of one all too used to being hit around and used as another person's punching bag. And then a sudden overlapping image of another girl, a taller girl, blonde-haired and gentle-hearted, requesting to be punished in Quinn's stead, claiming her sister's mistakes as her own...

Quinn clenched her open hand into a fist tightly, realizing suddenly that she couldn't. She couldn't hit her. Sure, her life was fucking screwed up. But Rachel's was too, and she couldn't take her anger out on her. She shouldn't take her anger out on anyone.

Moreover, if her earlier bullying of the girl had been a part of Russell reflected in herself, hitting Rachel now would just cement that forever, and no matter what, she could not let that happen. She would never let that happen.

"I'm not mad at you," Quinn found herself saying. "All you did was what I wasn't brave enough to do — tell the truth."

Rachel opened her eyes to stare at Quinn. She was honestly surprised. Given their shared history and the magnitude of her mistake, added to it the enormity of the consequences it meant for Quinn, she had had no doubt that Quinn would take full advantage of this opportunity to beat her into a pulp. If not worse. The first words that came to mind were "who are you and what have you done with Quinn Fabray" but given the circumstances, she held her tongue for once, restraining herself from blurting it out loud.

Quinn regarded a wordless Rachel with frustration. She had just forgiven the girl, what else did she want from her? When Rachel shifted slightly from foot to foot and made no move to leave, she decided to speak up directly, since the girl obviously couldn't take a hint.

"Can you leave now? I would really like to be alone," she stated plainly. She watched as Rachel stared at her for a moment before nodding hesitantly and walking away, thankfully closing the door behind her without another word.

Quinn closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. She was just so tired.

**A/N. Much of this chapter came from the actual TV series itself, including some of the dialogue, so credit for that goes to the producers. I think I mentioned once (in an A/N in Chapter 1) that this scene was one of the inspirations for this story, so of course it had to feature sometime. (:**

**This chapter is shorter than normal, but it's also quicker, and I hope it makes up for it. I wanted to start the 'aftermath' in another chapter, hence the quick end. The next one should be longer.**


	54. Wishing for ignorance

CarmellaD'Winter - Thanks. Glad the mistakes issue is cleared up (:

Guest - He isn't a bad dude. Just rash, impulsive and hot-headed. Putting yourself in his shoes, he's been worrying for a week about having a pregnant girlfriend and becoming a father, and then he's suddenly told he can't possibly have gotten her pregnant, that she had lied to him, and such a ridiculous lie at that. In the show, he had Puck to vent his anger on, to "sucker punch", but in this scenario, he can't exactly hit Quinn (again, he's not that kind of a guy), so he ventilates the only way he can, by shouting mean angry things and kicking a chair.

lemon-rind - Rachel probably would have tried, except that in this scenario, she didn't exactly have time. JBI with his insane crush on Rachel, would probably have chosen Rachel's undergarments over Quinn's secret any day but Finn was just crazily angry, and wouldn't have listened to anyone or been placated by anything other than a confrontation with Quinn.

NZgleek91 - Hope you enjoy this aftermath too (:

Future -Styles - Unfortunately, yes.

gogolax - No, it hasn't. I'm not sure about the US, but in Singapore, we try to protect the children from the press as much as possible, and even when we report them, its usually after the police investigations and court hearings, when there's some confirmed facts to report. In either case, I'm not letting the press anywhere near by two girls, especially not Rachel in her current rather brainwashed state. It'll just complicate matters.

Alese222 - Yep, it was fast indeed. Thanks (:

Shana - I was hoping to surprise everyone, heh. Just like how this is definitely a surprise for Quinn, Rachel and everyone else in the story too.

monprincess - He was pissed, heh. Poor Quinn indeed.

Rini - I thought it would be too abrupt a change in Rachel for her to be blurting out Quinn's secret to Finn because she wants him for herself. Anyway, I don't think romance is her top priority now.

Anon - This is Quinn's second day back actually, but I suppose it doesn't really matter either way. It's a sucky day for her indeed.

1moredreamer – True, Rachel didn't exactly tell the truth, but she didn't lie like Quinn had either. Quinn was talking more about her own lack of bravery than about Rachel's courage. As for Santana's reaction, it's… coming. Haha.

JWilson18 – Poor Quinn indeed. Lies just make everything worse in the end.

olacindy – Glad you found it interesting (:

GreenLemons – Haha, I'm beginning to realise that there are a lot of Finn-haters around. As for Rachel, she didn't mean to tell Quinn's secret, and I still don't know if she'll tell Shelby anything.

SA03 – We'll see (:

BellaDora Soulmates – I'm glad in the midst of all the "poor Quinn"s, someone also realises that Rachel is in quite a fix herself as well. She never meant for any of this to happen.

shiniso – Haha, yeah. Every time I talked about Rachel tutoring Finn _Biology_, I wondered if anyone would guess what was going to happen next. So glad no one did! As for Shelby, she isn't going to have a reaction, because she won't know… Not for a while, at least.

KC1991 – Thanks (:

ArmadilloPretzels – Haha, thanks. I did warn readers in my story summary that although this story is AU, there'll be references back to canon. Glad you liked it :D

**A/N. My apologies for the late update, this has been a crazily busy time for me (which also explains the very short review replies). Still, today is the 1-year anniversary of this story, so I felt I ought to post something. Enjoy! (:**

Chapter 52. Wishing for ignorance

Quinn looked at her watch. It was already 5:05pm, she had been hiding in the classroom for three hours now. She really should be getting back soon. They had told Shelby this morning that Glee club meetings usually ended around four thirty and they should be home by five.

As she picked up her backpack, she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to have been Rachel's ride home, and without her, the girl had probably had had to walk home on her own. She panicked a little at the thought of Rachel having arrived home before her and what she might have told Shelby about the events of this afternoon but decided she didn't really care. What could Shelby do to her anyway?

First things first, she decided. Get home first, then deal with Shelby. Maybe Rachel had said nothing to her mother, and Quinn could hopefully get away with saying as little as possible.

At least the corridors were empty, she noted as she stepped out of the classroom. Thank God for small favours. She just knew she wouldn't be able to handle Pamela and her cronies if they were to show up right now to taunt her.

She hurried along as quickly as possible, not wishing to encounter anyone, and was about to step out of the school doors when a small voice spoke up behind her.

"I'll meet you where you dropped me off from school one block away?"

It was Rachel, Quinn realized, and she blinked at her a few times before recalling the arrangement they had made the previous day in order to hide the fact that they were living in the same house and coming to school together from the rest of the school. That stupid little secret seemed so inconsequential now, especially in light of that humongous secret of hers that had just been revealed to her boyfriend - or ex-boyfriend - and in all likelihood, the rest of the school too.

But you still have to tell Santana and Brittany about Rachel first, before you allow everyone else to find out, she reminded herself. Turning to Rachel, she nodded slightly before heading out towards her car on her own.

With her car still in park, Quinn sat in the driver's seat and stared out of the window thoughtfully, intending to give Rachel a few minutes head start before "picking her up".

The school looked as it had always looked but her status in it was no longer the same. She had gotten a taste of it yesterday and today - she no longer had the unwavering respect of the other students that had been a natural consequence of her high social position both as a Cheerio and later as captain of the Cheerios.

For the past two days, she had been subjected to the popular kids' casually tossed out bullying, perhaps slightly more than the average student given her familiarity with them, especially the Cheerios. However, it had not been anything too extreme, nothing like the bullying she had dished out to Rachel on a regular basis anyway.

Tomorrow, however, everything was going to change. One of her worst secrets was out in the open now, everyone was going to know it. It would be the hottest news ever - Super Christian and Ultra Virgin Quinn Fabray cheating on her boyfriend and getting pregnant. By tomorrow, she would be the brunt of her everyone's jokes, every student's teasing. Not to mention that most of the Cheerios would probably have figured out that her pregnancy was the reason for her expulsion from the squad, giving them perfect ammunition to escalate their bullying from its current casual snide comments to right out hell on earth.

For one brief, insane moment, she considered running away. Driving away now, in this car, far away from this town, from the people, from her wrecked reputation here, and starting afresh somewhere new. She had her car, she had the money, there was no reason why she wouldn't be able to make it. The money would support her for the rest of high school, after which she could get a scholarship to study at a college even further away. Or she could just drop out of school, find a job, rent a place and raise her child to never know where Lima, Ohio was.

She had no family left here either, and with her secrets out and reputation destroyed, there was nothing left here to stay for.

She could run.

Just like your parents ran away after Frannie died? Ran here to Lima, threw away everything that could remind any of you of her, and started a new life here, pretending that Frannie never even existed?

Frannie, the only person who had ever loved her unconditionally.

Quinn clenched her fists around the steering wheel. It had been the coward's way out. And if she ran away now, it would be yet another act of cowardice. Just like them.

How Fabray of you, the sneering little voice in her head sniggered. Appearances are all that matter, running away like a scaredy cat when that perfect facade is shattered, instead of facing up to it...

She started her car quickly and drove out of the school towards Shelby's home before she could change her mind. One block away, a girl was waiting for her, a girl who had always returned to school no matter what happened, who always held her head high and walked away with a smile no matter what anyone did or said to her. A girl who did her own thing, no matter how unpopular it made her, who spoke up for what she believed in, stood up for those who had once bullied her - who did what she wanted and did not care about what others thought of her... A girl who was as un-Fabray as one could get, and a girl whom, frankly, she had come to admire, even if she would die before admitting that to her, or to anyone, really.

Maybe this could work out. Maybe she could stay on and learn from Rachel how to survive in a school full of people who hated her and were out to get her. It would certainly mean a better, more wholesome life for her baby. She would get to grow up around decent adults like Shelby and the Lopezes, rather than out on the run with its clueless single and emotionally damaged mother.

For her baby, she decided. She had escaped from her parents because of her baby, and set this whole plan in motion for her baby too. Now, she just had to trust that everything would all work out. If anything, her car and her money weren't going anywhere, and if she found that she couldn't handle matters later on, she could always run then. For now, she would stay, she decided as she pulled up to where Rachel was and let the smaller girl in.

"I'm sorry," Rachel squeaked the moment she stepped into the car. "I would have walked home from school but Mom told me to ride with you since we were ending Glee club together, and also because she didn't want me walking home in this weather for fear of catching a cold, and I was afraid that if I came home on my own without you, she might be angry. I could have walked back home and waited outside for you to appear but it is really quite cold out and I didn't want her to see me and ask me where you are. I also didn't want her to think that I didn't wait for you because we were fighting, because we aren't, right?"

Quinn shook her head but before she could open her mouth, Rachel had started talking again.

"I'm really truly sorry about what happened with Finn. I didn't mean to tell him, but I know that doesn't change the fact that he now knows. I know you wanted to be left alone after that and I wanted to leave you alone too, but I didn't want to come home myself too, so I waited for you outside the classroom. I know that isn't entirely alone in the most literal sense of the word, but I didn't look in, or listen in, I just waited outside and kept a couple of students from going in too, so that you could have the space to yourself..."

_Oh my goodness,_ Quinn sighed. If she didn't stop Rachel, the girl was really never going to stop talking on her own. She held up her right hand to silence her. "You wanted to obey your Mom and wait to return with me, I've got it. It's fine."

Rachel nodded, and when Quinn did not continue, she cocked her head to one side and looked at Quinn. "Aren't you going to add something about how I'm a goody-two-shoes for wanting to obey Mom?"

"That goes without saying," Quinn said, rolling her eyes.

_I suppose I understand now why you would be so obedient, given what I now know about your fathers_, Quinn added silently. It didn't make her behaviour any less annoying, but it wasn't criminal either. Given the severity of her fathers' "punishments", she probably would never have survived almost fifteen years with them, if she hadn't been as obedient as she was. It wasn't entirely her fault, and it didn't mean she deserved any of the bullying that she had suffered over the years for such behaviour.

A memory of Rachel tearfully mumbling in her sleep just last night swam up in Quinn's mind. "I promise to be good", "I swear I'll try harder", "I'll be a good girl, please"… different variations of those statements echoing those same sentiments. Rachel hadn't been particularly loud but Quinn was a light sleeper and had been woken up by her sleeptalking anyway. She had debated whether or not to wake her up, but Rachel had settled down after a few more minutes and Quinn had returned to sleep, wondering what dark dreams had been haunting her housemate's sleep…

She noticed Rachel casting furtive glances at her and sighed internally. She missed the days when she could hate the girl guiltlessly without all these additional baggage weighing her down. "Just spit it out already, we don't have all day."

"Who is it? The father of the baby..."

"Excuse me?" Quinn asked, honestly surprised. She had expected people to whisper about it behind her back but she hadn't really been prepared for someone daring to ask her that question to her face.

"I-I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."

"Damn right, I don't. I don't owe you a damn thing, you've already proven yourself incapable of keeping a secret, so I have no reason to tell you anything."

Rachel nodded, not disagreeing with her, not even defending herself that it hadn't been intentional. That didn't mean she had given up, however. "But you should still tell Mom," she pressed on doggedly.

"No way in hell," Quinn declared firmly, fighting off the strange feeling she had that Rachel had already figured everything out.

_She doesn't know anything_, she told herself firmly. _Rachel Berry doesn't possess any self-control whatsoever, and she would be badgering me about it incessantly if she has even guessed at who the father of my child is. _

"First of all, she's _your_ Mom, not mine. Secondly, it's like you said, I don't have to tell you, I don't have to tell her, and I don't have to tell _anyone_. The identity of the baby's father is my own damn business, no one else needs to know."

"Mom will find out soon, though. Yesterday when we were preparing dinner in the kitchen? I heard her mumbling to herself that she would need to, and I quote, 'Talk to this Finn guy soon and find out what his intentions are regarding Quinn's baby'."

Quinn scowled. _What was it with this mother-daughter pair always wanting to poke their nose in her personal affairs?_

"She should mind her own damn business." _Like mother, like daughter_, she added silently in her head.

Rachel shrugged. "She won't. Remember when I got into the fight with Dave Karofsky and Azimio Adams?"

Quinn rolled her eyes internally. Seriously, could she not remember it? After all, it was those slushies she had ordered that had caused Rachel fight-with-bombastic-words-and-not-fists Berry to get into a fight with two of the biggest and meanest guys in school. It was the reason why she had apologized to Rachel later with a song, and probably also the reason why she wasn't as angry with Rachel now as she probably would have been a few weeks ago. In a weird way, she still owed Rachel. She returned her gaze to Rachel and nodded in reply to her question. Despite the thoughts swimming in her mind, she kept silent, wanting to first hear where this was going.

"When she heard about the fight, and how I got suspended but the boys hadn't, she arranged for a meeting with Principal Figgins to make sure the both of them were punished too. I begged her to please leave it alone, but she said that she needed to make things right and that meant that Principal Figgins needed to know the truth. I told her the boys tease me all the time and I had hit them first, but she insisted that what they did was still wrong and they needed to know that."

_Oh man_. "What happened?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"It was weird actually. Karofsky confessed to the teasing and actually apologized, which Adams definitely did not agree with, but he didn't have much of a choice after what Karofsky said. I don't know why he confessed so easily, though. I think Puck may have had something to do with it but when I questioned him, his replies were really vague."

Quinn smirked. _Way to go, boys._

Rachel noticed the smirk and frowned. "Wait, did _you_ have something to do with it too?"

Quinn shrugged. "Wouldn't you like to know," she commented mysteriously.

Rachel huffed but her smile gave her away. "Well, whatever you did, thank you. And thank you too, for calling off the slushies that week. It was just after I had gone to the hospital to get my back patched up, and my Mom told me I had to keep my bandages clean and dry all week, and I was only able to do that because you helped ban the slushies from me. Which by the way, was another issue she had wanted to confront Principal Figgins about, and it was only because of your ordered ban on all slushies that I had the confidence to assure her that there would no longer be any more slushy attacks. Otherwise, she would have gone to Principal Figgins about that too, even though you and I both know that he's too incompetent and powerless to really do anything about such an entrenched McKinley tradition."

Quinn sighed. Did Rachel really have to go bring up the slushies? The slushy tradition she had begun in the first place, the slushies that she had ordered on Rachel for the better part of their high school career. The only thing was, this time, she wasn't quite sure if Rachel really meant to remind Quinn of her past sins, since she appeared completely oblivious to the hidden meaning behind her words.

"Your point being?"

"My point is, she's going to make it her business anyway, whether you like it or not."

_Right_. Confusion cleared up, she supposed. "It's different. _We're_ different. You're her daughter, I'm not."

"Foster daughter is kind of like a daughter too. I mean, she did take us out to buy furniture for your new room, right?"

"That's not my room, it's the _guest_ room, and I only went furniture shopping with the both of you because I'm the first _guest_ living in there. Buying furniture for the guest room together doesn't make me her daughter, not like genetics does anyway. I can't share a room with you forever, so getting the guest room ready for me makes sense, but at the end of the day I'm still a temporary guest at your house, and it doesn't mean she gives a crap about the identity of my baby's father. I know the statistics about foster care and shit. I'll probably be on my third or fourth foster family by the time my kid comes out."

"That's not true…" Rachel protested. She knew how hard it was to be obsessed with thoughts of getting kicked out, trying to mentally prepare yourself for an impossibly painful eventuality, and she didn't want Quinn to have to go through the same experience too. "I've already told you, I'm sorry I was suspicious of you before, when I thought she brought you in to replace me. Now I know she didn't, and she intends for the _both_ of us to live with her as long as we need it, and I won't…"

"Yes," Quinn interrupted, holding up her hand to silence Rachel again. "I _know_. You've said that about a hundred times already. Let it go." Rachel could go on and on about the same thing too, if she let her go on. Her record thus far was half an hour before Quinn realized that the only way to get her to shut up was to just tell that to her face. Subtlety was simply wasted on her.

In a way, it was refreshing to have someone be so straightforward and honest with her, someone with whom she didn't need to guess at hidden agendas, even if she still found herself doing so anyway, since looking for hidden agendas came as naturally to her as breathing.

"I'm sorry for rambling. But back to the topic, Mom's going to get around to talking to him, and when she does, she'll find out that the baby isn't his. I'm sure you don't want her to find that out that way, especially if he continues spewing that vitriol about you that he was saying just now, so you should probably talk to her about it first and clear the air."

Quinn sighed. It made sense, she supposed, but this was hard – really hard. Honestly, she quite liked staying with Shelby and Rachel - the three of them made up a screwed up family, to be sure, but it felt oddly comfortable too. Like she had screwed them both over badly enough but they were still sticking around and allowing her to stay, however temporarily, and making sure she felt sort of like a part of their family. It was like she knew that they really did mean it, that her acceptance here wasn't simply on the basis of good behaviour or whatever, and she didn't have to walk on eggshells around them so much.

Nevertheless, giving birth to a child of incestuous descent was one of those things that grossed most ordinary people out, and however tolerant and forgiving a pair they were, she wondered if something like this would be too much for even Shelby. She couldn't tell Rachel either, because that girl simply couldn't keep a secret to save her life. She just couldn't risk it. Contrary to what Rachel had said, she had hoped that Shelby would keep her at least until her baby was born. Shelby had given birth to Rachel when she was not much older than herself, and so far, she had been understanding and empathetic about her pregnancy. Besides, she doubted Sharon would be able to find another foster family with Shelby's unique set of circumstances that allowed her to be free of Russell Fabray's evil clutches.

"I'll think about it," she told Rachel, although even while she said it she wondered what she meant by "it". Even if Rachel was too innocent to make the connection that Russell could have been the father of her unborn child, but Shelby would definitely see through it immediately. Not to mention Santana… she hadn't checked her phone yet and dreaded checking it for fear of the messages that were surely waiting for her there. "Anything else?"

"Why didn't you hit me just now?" Rachel asked, honestly curious.

Quinn rolled her eyes. Was this girl some masochist or something? "I've already told you just now in the classroom. I don't like repeating myself."

Rachel nodded. "I'm really _really_ sorry I told Finn."

Quinn sighed. "I know. And I also know it was accidental, so just drop it already."

"I'm also really sorry Finn told everyone..."

"Yes, well, I did screw him over pretty badly. Bruised his tiny little ego by cheating on him and lying to him."

"His reaction scared me. He always seemed… kind of sweet. Not very intelligent, of course - made even more evident today by his gullible belief in your outrageous lie, and completely inaptitude at Biology - but kind-hearted nonetheless. His heart has always seemed to be in the right place."

Quinn winced. "He is, I suppose. Most of the time. When I told him I was pregnant, you know, hot tub-pregnant with his child, he told me he would support me whatever I chose. That was pretty decent of him."

Rachel nodded. Of course, she thought. That was the right thing for a guy to do if the child was his.

"But this... situation is admittedly a little extreme, and his anger at my being pregnant with a child that isn't his is really no surprise. Not to mention my lying to him about it. Anyway, shouldn't you at least be a little happy about this?"

"Why would I be?"

"I know you've had a crush on him since forever."

"I do not-" Rachel protested.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Save your breath, Rachel, I _know_. He _was_ my boyfriend for more than a year, I think I would have noticed you making gooey eyes at him all the time. My point is, he's all yours now. I broke his heart, smashed it into tiny little pieces, all you need to do now is step in, shower him with loads of sympathy, maybe throw in a little bitching about me, and he'll be all over you in no time."

"I wouldn't..."

"Whatever, Rachel, I don't care either way," Quinn said unconvincingly.

Rachel shook her head. "I wouldn't do something like that. We're kind of like sisters now and sisters can't..."

"Excuse me?" Quinn snapped, eyes suddenly blazing. "We are not sisters! I already have a sister, and you are most definitely _not_ my sister!"

"I'm sorry!" Rachel squeaked but she couldn't help her curiosity as the questions continued to tumble out of her mouth. "You have a sister? How old is she? What is she doing now? Why haven't you mentioned her before? Oh no, after what happened with your parents, who is she going to live with? Is Ms Sharon her social worker as well? Why weren't the both of you placed in the same…"

"Shut up," Quinn interrupted with an order. "I do not speak about her, and you do not get to mention her either. To me or to anyone else."

Rachel backed down at the sight of the fury in Quinn's eyes. It was more intense than she'd ever seen, and she had been on the receiving end of years of bullying and slushying from this girl, which Rachel assumed had been motivated by anger or hatred. But she had never seen the blonde so angry before.

"I'm sorry, I won't mention her again."

Quinn gave Rachel one final glare before she calmed down. Truthfully, her outburst had surprised herself more than anyone else. She never spoke about Frannie to anyone. Not even Santana and Brittany knew she existed. But Rachel had this annoying way of getting under her skin and bringing out the worst in her.

"I'm sorry," Quinn apologised. "I shouldn't have snapped like that. Just... It's not something I want to talk about, okay? Not even Santana and Brittany know about Frannie, so I'm begging you, please don't mention her ever again."

"Frannie?"

"Rachel!" Quinn growled.

"Okay, okay, I won't talk about her anymore," Rachel promised.

Quinn sighed. She was exhausted and her emotions were fried. That had to be the explanation for why she would suddenly bring up Frannie, her sister whom she hadn't spoken about for the last three years. "Let's just go home, okay? We're already quite late, Shelby will probably be worried about you."

…

_She cringed against the relentless assault. _

_How many times had this occurred to her? It was so many that she couldn't even count it. Yet, after so long, it was surprising how much shame she could still feel. It would have been better if she had fought him, the added pain would at least be better than how degraded she felt now, lying there and allowing him to do this to her without a struggle. But she was tired, so very tired, and try as she might she couldn't even move a single muscle. Not her legs to kick him away, not her mouth to scream, not even to move her eyes away so she didn't have to look at that lustful look in his eyes._

_All she could do was lie there and take it. _

_Even though the pain was, by now, less than it had been that first time, yet every single time he did this, the shame and humiliation burned as intensely as ever, maybe even more, as the numbers rose, reminding her of how weak she was, allowing him to do this to her time and again._

_He finished and got up, pushing her off the bed with a satisfied smirk, and still unable to move a limb, she rolled off the bed, falling and falling..._

Quinn woke up with a start. It was just a stupid nightmare. _Again_.

And she was once again crying, she realized, as she felt the wetness on her cheeks. It was truly unfair, she decided. It was simply not fair that while she could always steel herself from crying in the day, could distract herself with various mundane activities, but she was helpless against the tears that came at night when nightmares haunted her sleep.

She curled herself into a tight ball, as though to protect herself, only there was no need for protection now. He wasn't here anymore, and the only person in the room was the short girl sleeping soundly beside her.

Or maybe not so soundly, she realized, as she felt her a small hand nudge her side gently. She sighed, bracing herself for an incoming verbal assault but to her surprise, Rachel was uncharacteristically silent. A few minutes passed and she almost thought the girl had fallen asleep, until she felt the same small hand touch her own hand again before coming to rest on the bed beside her, turned upwards and offering itself to be held.

Quinn looked over at Rachel curiously. There was no judgement there, no mockery, and no pity either. It held understanding, and created a strange but not unwelcome ache in her chest. She looked away, unwilling to think about how Rachel could possibly understand her, but she took the offered hand in her own anyway, squeezing it tightly.

At the very least, it was a kind gesture. A reminder that she wasn't alone.

**A/N. I have to make a confession here – When I started this story last year, I thought it would run for about 30-40 chapters, and at the rate of a chapter every 1-2 weeks, I calculated that I would be done by now (17 May 2013). However, 52 chapters in exactly 52 weeks + 1 day later (achieving a rate of almost 1 chapter a week!), I find myself nowhere near done with the story yet and I spent a long time wondering what to do with this story. It's not that I don't wish to continue it, but I had planned to end it around now because I'll unfortunately be becoming extremely unavailable soon. I'm flying off to Taiwan for the whole month of June, after which, I will immediately start Final Year. With student internship, residency applications and studying for final exams, I doubt I'll have much time for writing, and after graduation, things will only get crazier when internship/residency begins. I'm sure there are enough medical dramas out there for most of you to know what I'm talking about :P**

**That's the reason why I've been trying to rush out this story, but since I'm clearly not going to get it out in time, I'm going to change tactics and take it slow instead, update at a slower and more sustainable pace. I have this story planned out for at least 32 more chapters (the number just keeps getting bigger) and I hope to complete it even if it might take me a few more years to do so. So here's my apologies in advance, that the frequency of updates will soon lengthen dramatically, and may be shorter at times too. Nevertheless, I hope to not only finish this story, but also to keep up the quality of writing. I really hate leaving things incomplete or poorly completed. If I ever do that to you guys because I got too overwhelmed by studies/work and this story gets nudged out of my limited-capacity brain, I hereby extend my most sincere apologies in advance. Just in case.**

**Cheers to a crazy year ahead! :D**


	55. Different

Guest - I wish so too, but give her time. Bear in mind, that Rachel just made her life a heck lot harder even if it was accidental. I think she's really trying her best and she's doing very well.

JWilson18 - You're welcome. Haha, yes, Rachel does talk a lot, and I have a lot of fun writing her long rants :D

NZgleek91 - Thanks for the vote of support. I'm sure Quinn appreciates your sympathy for her too (:

Rini - Haha, yeah, that's the idea for the long explanation in my A/N, so hopefully I won't get too many complaints later about too short or too infrequent updates. I love writing about the two girls' influence on each other, and I'm glad you can also see that they are good for each other (:

CarmellaD'Winter - Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it (:

Alese222 - The two girls _are_ my main characters, but yes, I do hope that no that Quinn is living with Rachel and things are less hostile between them, I can have more Quinn/Rachel scenes (:

Shana - Thanks (: By the way, I totally thought that you of all my reviewers would comment on the big juicy carrot I gifted you with in this first-anniversary chapter :P

olacindy - Yes. I think Quinn is a very complex person, much more complicated than Rachel. This is probably why I've always had more trouble writing Quinn, but I think by now, we've seen quite a few angles, covered quite a lot of ground about the kind of person Quinn is.

StormBrisingr - I'm glad you noticed that juxtaposition! (: Any idea why Rachel didn't say anything in that second scene?

Anon - Yep, someday indeed. I guess it's clear that that's the direction I'm headed for, even if it won't be without its bumps and obstacles (:

monprincess - Thanks (:

SA03 - I think, realistically speaking, Shelby won't be making a decision at this point in time... It is a huge decision and she is still struggling and grappling with all these new changes in her life. I don't think she'll be confident of taking on the responsibility of caring for Quinn permanently just yet. It's not just about giving her a place to stay.

ElinM - I realized I didn't reply your previous review because I didn't catch it before I published my latest chapter. Anyway, I see you're making your way through my story and have very strong opinions about the themes. I'm glad you're still reading it and think it's good (:

shiniso - I did not write a definite answer to what Rachel thinks/guesses/knows because I deliberately wanted to leave it up for interpretation. Personally, I think she's guessed but she can't be certain and she doesn't know if she should ask or if she really wants to know either. Even Rachel Berry has a limit somewhere. That's also why she remained silent at the end of the chapter - she doesn't know what to say, and perhaps, she even heard some things Quinn had said while she was dreaming... That's just what I think, what about you?

BellaDora Soulmates – The process of Quinn liking Rachel more has started already but perhaps it'll take time before it's more obvious (:

lemon-rind – You say that like it's a bad thing, heh, that that's "all" you can ever expect ):

KC1991 – No, Sue doesn't know. The only ones who know at this point are Dr Lopez, the gynaecologist, and the police. Rachel, Santana and Sue might suspect since they know about the rape as well as the pregnancy source not being Finn, but they don't know for sure. As for Frannie, do you think she killed herself? The cause of her death hasn't been revealed yet *mysterious smile*

Emerald Stag – Thanks. I'm glad you find them sweet (:

ArmadilloPretzels – Probably more than 32, haha. Thanks!

GreenLemons – Yes, I really love writing Rachel/Quinn friendship in this story. They're so different, but in some ways, they're so perfect for each other. Thanks!

Lemia48 - Sorry, my updating schedule is undergoing a bit of a upheaval at the present moment (see the A/N at the end of the last chapter for more details), and it's going to be rather infrequent and irregular for awhile. My apologies!

Chapter 53. Different

Quinn groaned as she stirred in her bed. What the hell was that noise? She propped herself up in bed and blinked a little, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light. It was Rachel, she realized, and she was working hard on the elliptical. Apparently that machine wasn't just for show, unlike other such exercise machines in so many other homes.

Sitting up in bed, she looked at Rachel as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Rachel was obviously exhausted and it showed in her slumped posture, the way her arms were leaning her weight on the handles and her body swaying a little unsteadily. Her face, however, was set in a grim line, and her feet continued to move forward at a determined pace. It was as though her arms were the only supports keeping her from falling off the machine.

"How long have you been at this?" Quinn asked groggily, as she blinked her eyes to get adjusted to the light. She glanced at the alarm clock beside her which read '6:58am'. That explained why her alarm, which she had set for 7am, hadn't rung yet.

Rachel had noticed Quinn wake up but was too breathless to comment. In fact, she was so out of breath that she debated not replying at all. "Fifty-seven minutes," she finally replied.

Quinn raised her eyebrows. "What are you training for, the marathon?" she asked as she walked over to look at the distance meter on the elliptical. "Nine kilometers. That's like… 5.6 miles? How far a distance are you intending to run?"

"Ten," Rachel panted out.

Quinn nodded. She hated to admit it but she was impressed. Anyway, further questions should probably wait till Rachel was done, presumably with ten kilometers rather than ten miles. Aside from the meter measuring distance in kilometres, waiting for her to run more than four more miles would probably make them both late for school at this rate. She pointed to the washroom indicating that she was going to wash up first.

Rachel nodded, grateful for the lack of continued conversation. This was one occasion when she had absolutely no desire to talk at all. She was seriously out of shape from having skipped her exercise routines for the past two weeks, and she was way behind on her usual timing.

When Quinn stepped out of the washroom, Rachel was no longer on her machine. Instead, she was beside it, doing crunches on the floor.

"69…70…"

_Seriously? Was that girl truly insane?_ Quinn wondered.

"Stop this!" she scolded as she grabbed one of Rachel's hands and pulled her to a sitting position.

"What?" Rachel asked, surprised.

"Your back! You're slamming it against the floor again and again."

"So?" Rachel retorted. "Let me go!"

"Your back is injured, you moron. Stop it!"

"It's almost healed. It barely hurts. It's fine," Rachel insisted as she moved back onto the floor to continue doing her crunches.

Quinn pulled her up again and held her there this time. "I just saw it a few days ago and it was so not fine. If it's so fine, why don't you show it to me now? I bet it's at the very least still bruised, isn't it?"

"That's none of your business," Rachel complained, shrugging away Quinn's hands. "Leave me alone! I've done this plenty of times, with a back in way worse shape than this, with the cuts still bleeding and the blisters still weeping fluid, and I've always managed this just fine. Just leave me alone and let me get on with my exercise, I'm almost done anyway!"

Quinn's heart skipped a beat at these shocking revelations being dropped so carelessly from Rachel's mind but she recovered quickly, gripping Rachel's hands more tightly and not just pulling her into a sitting position, but also pushing her back against the elliptical to prevent her from escaping.

On second thoughts, what was more shocking was that the more Rachel so casually revealed about her life with her fathers and what she was apparently 'used to', the less shock Quinn was feeling with each new revelation. She didn't like it one bit, this kind of thing wasn't something you were supposed to be able to get used to. Getting used to living with Russell's mistreatment has been bad enough, she didn't need to get used to hearing about the abuses Rachel had suffered too.

"No," Quinn replied forcefully. "If your intention was to horrify me, congratulations, you've managed it, but you're still not going to do this to yourself. I don't know what's gotten into you this morning but I don't care either. When I move out from your room, you can kill yourself in this room for all I care but until then, I'm not going to stand here and watch you hurt yourself again and again. You're fucking out of your mind."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Quinn, especially since Quinn did not usually get so angry or resort to using swear words, but she could not sustain her indignation for too long before she sighed and conceded. She _was_ awfully tired and anyway, there was no way she could overpower Quinn and continue doing her crunches. She reached up to grab her towel hanging on the handlebar of her elliptical machine, then sat down on the floor, leaning against her exercise machine tiredly.

"How often do you run?" Quinn asked, her curiosity getting the better of her now that Rachel had stopped to rest.

"Usually? Every day. Sorry if I woke you up today."

Quinn waved the apology aside, more interested in this introduction to Rachel's lifestyle. Apparently Rachel wasn't just a hard-ass to her and the other Glee kids, she was even worse towards herself. "10 km every day?"

"Yes."

"Why do you run so much? You do realise that you're in Glee club, not the cross-country club, right?"

"Exercising is equally important in the performing arts. It's essential for all performers to stay healthy and fit in order to consistently produce their best possible performance. Stamina is important for dancing, and as I'm mainly a singer, it's also important for me to build up my lung power so that I can belt out those high notes I love to sing so much. They don't just come naturally, you know."

At Quinn's quizzical look, Rachel huffed. "I thought that as head Cheerio, you would understand that. I often see you leading your teammates on morning runs as well."

"Ex-head Cheerio," Quinn corrected, but that wasn't something she really wanted to talk about so she quickly redirected the conversation back to Rachel. "Yes, I guess, but not _everyday_. And honestly, if it weren't for Coach hounding us all the time, as well as the company of and competition with my fellow Cheerios, I certainly wouldn't be training as hard as I currently am. Or was," she added, recalling her current demoted position. "What makes you wake up so early and get on that elliptical everyday? No one is forcing you to."

Rachel shrugged. "At first, my father made me do it. After a while, I got used to it, it's kind of a habit now, I guess, so I think I'll keep doing it even though I'm no longer living with my fathers anymore."

Rachel's voice grew quiet towards the end, and Quinn knew she should stop but her curiousity won out and she couldn't help but ask the next question. "Why do you run so hard? I mean, you looked like you were half dead out there, you were freaking exhausted. Didn't you just finish a 2-week break from dancing? If it's the first time you're getting back on your elliptical, why don't you just take it easy and slowly build your strength back up?"

Rachel frowned. "That's precisely why I need to push myself. I've lost a lot of stamina over the break and I need to regain my previous fitness. These past few weeks, I've been eating a lot more and dancing a lot less, I have a lot of catching up to do. I didn't do well today, I took 10 minutes longer than I usually take to finish the ten clicks. Dad would have been _furious_ if he was here."

Quinn shook her head. "Where do you find your motivation?"

Rachel bit her lip. Dad's cane provided her with plenty of motivation, although she couldn't possibly tell Quinn that. Each time he increased the distance he wanted her to run, he would accompany her every morning for a week, monitoring the distance meter from beside her. Every time he noticed she was slacking off, the stinging lash of the cane on her back would help her to draw on hidden reserves of strength and energy to continue with her exercise, chest heaving and heart racing. After the first few times, once she had gotten into the rhythm and pacing of her new elliptical regime, her dad would stop accompanying her, only checking at 7am every morning that she had finished the requisite distance. She knew well enough not to slack off even unsupervised. Even when her lungs were on fire, her aching body screamed for rest and her throat was dry with thirst, the ever-present welts on her back were always a powerful motivator to push on without stopping to rest, or even slowing down. The cuts from the previous mornings' punishments, some stinging more than the others because the overlapping weals resulted in open, bleeding cuts that stung as her sweat dripped into them, a painful reminder of the punishment that awaited her if she didn't finish her exercises on time by the time her fathers woke up…

Rachel shook her head quickly. She didn't want to think about that right now.

Quinn stared at Rachel who was still deep in thought and had yet to answer her question, suddenly feeling stupid as she recalled Rachel's outburst just now.

"Your Dad hit you when you didn't finish within his expectations?" she asked, although she suspected she already knew the answer.

Rachel nodded and looked away.

"He's not here now, though," Quinn offered. "Your Mom wouldn't hit you. I bet she doesn't even know you're doing this and wouldn't force you to run so hard if she knew."

Rachel shrugged, her jaw set firmly and her eyes far away. "Whatever you guys say about my fathers, the routines they set have helped me to get this far in my training and my development of my performing abilities, so I don't see why I should stop now."

"You're such a perfectionist," Quinn stated bluntly, somewhat in awe. "Don't you still have to walk to school after that? I remember always passing you when I drive to school and you've got to have to walk pretty far to get to school since I always pass you about four miles from school. Where do you find the stamina to still do that?"

She was very tempted to voice her thoughts, to tell her more about her fathers, especially about her Dad. Surely a fellow straight-A student like Quinn would understand her father's desire for her to be a good student and the ways he had helped her to do so. But thus far, Quinn had proven to be just the opposite, she said the exact same things as Shelby and the social workers, that her fathers had been wrong in their methods of discipline…

Rachel sighed. "It's just my routine," Rachel explained simply. "It's just what I'm used to, that's all."

"Doesn't mean you have to push yourself so hard after having been resting for the past 2 weeks," Quinn pointed out.

"It's precisely because I've lost a lot of my fitness over the past 2 weeks that I need to commit to a strict exercise regime to gain it back. You shouldn't be discouraging me, I'm doing this for Glee club too, I need to get back in shape in time for Sectionals."

Quinn rolled her eyes. What a perfectionist. Whatever her timing, if she could run 10km without stopping, her fitness was just fine and definitely far better than most of the other Glee girls. Probably better than some of the boys too.

…

"You woke up really early to exercise. Glad to be off activity restriction at last?" Shelby asked as she laid out the last few breakfast items on the table just as Rachel made her way down the stairs.

"Yes, Mom." Rachel wondered briefly if her mom was going to check on her performance, in which she would be forced to confess that she hadn't met the required timing this morning. The healing cuts on her back tingled a little, but she forced herself to focus. _Even Quinn pointed out Mom wouldn't…_

Proving Quinn right, Shelby only smiled at Rachel. "Don't overdo it, okay? Exercise is important but your body also needs time to readjust after a period of rest."

The corner of Quinn's mouth twitched up a little as Rachel pouted. "That's exactly what Quinn had said as well."

Shelby smiled. "Glad to see one of you is sensible, at least."

Rachel frowned a little at Shelby's words. "You don't think I should exercise and keep myself fit and healthy?"

"That's not what I said. Of course exercising is good, but I'm just concerned for your health and don't want you to overdo it and either fall sick or injure yourself. Overwork can sometimes be just as detrimental as not training hard enough."

"Yes, Mom," Rachel agreed.

Shelby fought the urge to sigh. Her pleasure at hearing her daughter call her 'Mom' hadn't diminished over time but she would be lying if she denied that hearing 'Yes, Mom' from Rachel wasn't getting a little tiresome. Despite her best efforts, Rachel was still so formal with her. Quinn was not much better either. While she lacked Rachel's rigidly formal manner of speech, ever since that dinner with Rachel when Quinn had yelled at her, the blonde had regressed back to speaking as little as possible and only when absolutely necessary.

Shelby watched the two girls thoughtfully as they finished their breakfast prepared to head out to school. She knew it would take time, and perhaps this formality of hers might never truly disappear, but she still couldn't get over this feeling that she should be doing more to put them more at ease with her. But the problem was, she had no clue how to do that. She was used to being strict with her students, and she certainly hadn't been known for being funny, much less fun or easy-going.

…

"I'm sorry I snapped at you this morning," Rachel told Quinn as she entered the car.

"It's fine. God knows I've snapped at you plenty of times before. Why were you angry, though? You seemed very different from how you were last night."

When Rachel did not reply immediately, Quinn glanced over to look for a response. Rachel was staring out of the window, and she was still looking away when she finally replied.

"I miss my fathers. I miss them so much."

_What the hell?! _Quinn almost braked her car there and then, but she forced herself to continue driving as calmly as possible, although she did slow down her vehicle to avoid crashing should Rachel decide to say something else even more shocking.

"Mm," she replied non-committally, hoping that the brunette would continue speaking and elaborate a little. Because Quinn certainly had no idea how else to respond to a statement like that. She sure didn't miss Russell or Judy. In fact, she would be really thankful if she could forget them both and all they had done to her, and especially grateful if she never had to see either of them ever again.

"Dad usually supervises my training. And if I had performed as poorly as I did this morning, he would most definitely have punished me. Escaping unscathed like this, and Shelby even telling me to take it easy instead of scolding me or punishing me or at the very least yelling at me to push myself harder… It feels wrong somehow. It's just… Things were familiar with them, you know? Maybe painful at times, but it felt right. Everything was in its place, just as they were supposed to be, and now, everything's just messy and confusing."

"I've lived with them all my life, and I've never known a home apart from them… This is really the first time I've had to live with someone else, and the longest I've ever had to go without seeing them."

"Don't get me wrong," she corrected quickly when she noticed Quinn's quizzical look. "I love my Mom so much and I'm so thankful to her for treating me so kindly and leniently but it just feels wrong sometimes. Like I don't deserve it."

"Shelby _is_ good to you," Quinn replied, trying not to let her jealousy show in her words. "She does love you and she does care for you, but she isn't being overly lenient with you. She's just treating you like any mother would treat her daughter. She's the normal one, the 'right' one, not your fathers."

Rachel sighed, she seriously didn't want to start another argument about her fathers now.

"Maybe they were unusually strict with me," she conceded, "but they did right by me too. They were just different, and Mom is different from them too, and I just need to get used to her way of doing things. Anyway, I missed them this morning, and you telling me to stop and getting in the way of me finishing my routine just annoyed me, and so I snapped at you. I'm sorry."

"No problem," Quinn said with a shrug as she pulled over at her usual drop-off point. "Are you okay now?"

"I'll be fine," Rachel assured her, as she moved to get out of the car.

"Hopefully, today's the last day we'll be doing this," Quinn told her. "I plan to tell Santana and Brittany about living with you at our sleepover this weekend, so next Monday, I can just drive you right in to school. Such a small secret really doesn't matter so much now that everyone knows I'm… you know, pregnant. And about Finn."

Rachel nodded, and turned back to face Quinn with a guilty look on her face. "I'm sorry, I've been so obsessed over myself and my stupid little problems that I forgot about you and your secret that I told Finn yesterday. And you had a nightmare last night too, and barely slept! Are you okay?"

Quinn smiled slightly, but did not explain to Rachel her realisation that talking about other people's problems helped her forget about her own for a while. She wasn't sure the self-absorbed girl would really understand, and anyway, she didn't need her to. She just needed her as a distraction.

"I'll be fine too," she informed Rachel, mirroring her words. "I even brought spare clothes in case I get slushied."

Rachel winced, knowing from personal experience how unpleasant slushies were, not just because of their physical discomfort but more so because of the social humiliation they caused the recipient. "I hope it won't come to that. They wouldn't dare, would they? You were once Head Cheerio, after all."

"I'm not even a Cheerio now. Besides, it would be poetic justice, wouldn't it? I thought you of all people would be pleased at least."

Rachel shook her head disapprovingly. "Two wrongs…"

"… don't make a right," Quinn completed for her. "I remembered. But not everyone at school thinks the same way you do and honestly, I don't expect them to."

"Why don't you get Santana and Brittany to help protect you? They're your best friends, and they're still on your side, right? I'm sure they wouldn't mind. Besides, Santana is the Head Cheerio now, if she gives you her protection, no one would dare to touch you. The same way you gave me your protection when you were Head Cheerio and no one has slushied me ever since."

Quinn shook her head. "I'll be fine," she repeated. "I don't need her help, and don't you dare go tattling to her, or I'll _really_ be pissed. I made my own bed and I'll lie in it, I don't expect others to help me."

"… Okay." Rachel paused, although she didn't quite understand why Quinn wouldn't ask for help to avoid the slushies if she could. She most certainly would have, if she had had a friend to ask, or if there had been any way at all to do so. "Good luck today then. I really hope you don't get slushied, because it is really sticky and gross, and truly a thoroughly unpleasant experience but if it does happen, try to close your eyes before the slushy hits your face, because getting it in your eyes is really painful and it makes it so much worse. If too much of it gets in, your eyes will sting terribly, and they'll also turn red, making it look like you just cried, which just adds to the humiliation of the entire experience."

"Also, be sure to keep an extra set of clothes and toiletries with you in your bag, because it's much easier to simply head down to the nearest washroom, than to walk through the hallways to your locker all drenched. Although it is a good idea to keep an extra set in your locker too, in case people sabotage the ones in your bag, which this year's freshman Cheerios actually enjoyed doing for a while. And if you need anything, like extra clothes or toiletries, I have plenty of both, and not all my clothes are animal sweaters, so you don't have to worry about looking like me if you wear them…"

"Thank you for your kind advice, Ms Rachel Barbra Berry, oh great expert in the art of getting slushied," Quinn replied, smiling even as she rolled her eyes. "Because of me, I suppose," she added more quietly.

Rachel shrugged good-naturedly. It wasn't that she hadn't heard the last five words, she just wasn't sure how to reply that. "You should go. It's still relatively early, which is good, because the people who tend to throw slushies also tend to come later than this. If you're lucky, you'll make it to your homeroom before they arrive, and then you'll be safe, at least for the morning."

With that, Rachel slipped out of the car and disappeared before Quinn could say another word.

_Here goes nothing_, Quinn thought, as she started her car again and made her way towards the school.

**A/N. I'm flying off to Taiwan in a few hours (part studies, part leisure), and will spend almost a month there, as mentioned in the previous chapter's A/N. Not sure how much time I'll have to write there, or how much Internet access I'll have, but I'll try to update at least once while I'm there! Ta~**


	56. Proxies

olacindy – Thanks! Yep, I intend to have lots of leisure, before the horrors of Year 5 begins XD I think Rachel's truthfulness allows Quinn to be truthful to her too, and hopefully, she'll eventually learn to be truthful to herself too.

CarmellaD'Winter – Thanks! Glad you liked it. I know everyone understands perfectly how Shelby and Quinn feel about Rachel's fathers, so I'll try to give some of Rachel's perspective whenever I can (:

Future -Styles – At the sleepover this weekend as promised. It's just that the sleepover is taking a while to happen, haha. Today (in story time) is Friday, though, so it really is just around the corner. Sorry, I'm a slow, slow writer XD

Alese222 – Thanks! Quinn will tell them at the sleepover this weekend. I hope as Rachel reveals more of her thoughts/feelings about her fathers, you will begin to understand her point of view better (:

ArmadilloPretzels – Thanks! I'm glad too. I enjoy writing them as friends (or trying to be friends) more than writing them fighting). Hope this is fast enough for you, heh.

Lemia48 – No problem. Thanks! (:

Shana – Thanks! Haha. No, I don't find it annoying, so feel free. Like I think I said earlier, you're the only one so enamoured by these carrots. Most people prefer the other veggies, and it's gratifying to see that my carrots aren't going to waste. Any guesses as to how she died? ^^

lemon-rind – Yeah, age of high speed internet and instant noodles, right? Everything in my life, especially the hospitals, is super urgent and absurdly fast too, so my fanfic is like my way of slowing things down, an arena where I possess control over the speed I want things to go XD. As for your "jinx", yes, they did seem almost normal. Remember, they have passed for "normal" for the past few years of life, maybe Quinn a little mean and bitchy and Rachel a little weird and goody-two-shoes, and both very outstanding over-achievers, but normal variant otherwise. Not your run-off-the-mill nervous, scared-of-her-own-shadow traumatised little kid or your stereotypical cigarette-smoking, alcohol-drinking, drugs-abusing rebellious teenager. I wanted to write them this way, to show the subtle signs of child abuse, how kids can be majorly screwed up but appear to be completely normal – hence the title "Appearances".

NZgleek91 – Thanks! Yeah, I love it too. I think a lot of it stems from how, as much as she denies it, she sort of sees herself as Rachel's big sister. Just as Frannie had once protected her, she feels obliged to do the same, especially since Rachel seems to have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.

Rini – Thanks! Yes, finally after so long, right? Actually, just 2 weeks, but it feels very long, and I'm sure it feels even longer for the characters themselves. It's great that she doesn't equate kindness to disinterest anymore, but I think she also settles for labelling Shelby as merely "different" (and hence her fathers as just being "different" too), since she's stubbornly resistant to realising that her fathers had been wrong, and Shelby is just being a normal mother, doing what's right and acceptable. As for the added drama of Santana's reaction… That will come in due time, haha, but there's just a little appetiser of it here in this chapter :P

JWilson18 – You're welcome. Not in the most traditional sense of hostage vs captor, but more in the sense of traumatic bonding. She genuinely loves her fathers, as any child would love their parents, and her situation is compounded by her social isolation at school, which means she really doesn't know any better. Her mother with her different behaviour is confusing to her, so she does crave the normal routines she had with her fathers that made more sense to her. At the same time, she does love her mother too, and can see the difference between her mother's behaviour and her fathers'. She appreciates Shelby's kindness, leniency and overall much better treatment of her, and she's torn between waiting for the other shoe to drop (because that would show her that her fathers had been right after all, thus righting her world again) and wanting to believe that this nice-ness is genuine and could go on forever (because that would just challenge her world view even further).

OutOfNoWhereHereIAm – Coming soon (: Thanks for my 1001st review. Palindromic number, haha!

KC1991 – Thanks! We'll see if all that happens ^^ You really do love your drama, don't you? :D

shiniso – Haha, true, there are some conversations even Rachel Berry doesn't want to have. The sleepover will be in 1-2 chapters, and the aftermath and them getting back to school after the weekend will be… quite a few more after that, haha XD

Anon – Yes, she does. Sometimes I feel she's channelling her inner Frannie, since she misses her sister so much, and the way Rachel acts at times, she's just begging for a protector. No way Quinn is going to admit to this at this point in time, though, if she is still hesitant about just admitting to Brittana that she's living with Rachel.

Emerald Stag – Yes, I think it's definitely easier for them share their past with each other, given the similarities between what they've gone through – there's less necessity to hide.

StormBrisingr – I think Quinn does feel guilt for certain aspects of what happened to her and this is her warped way of "punishing" herself. (Remember when she appreciated Mr Schuester's disapproval about the slushies, the disapproval her own parents never gave her?) She is also a very proud person who would never admit she needs help. She's just the kind of person you have to try to help without her asking, and hope she doesn't bite your hand off :P

SA03 – Thanks! And you're welcome. Haha, you're not the only one, everyone is dying to have me get to the sleepover already, but there is a little more to write first before I get there (:

**A/N. Thanks, guys! I feel honoured to have made it past the 1000 reviews mark :D Here's a chapter from Taiwan to show my appreciation, enjoy!**

Chapter 54. Proxies

Quinn was lucky enough to make it to her homeroom in time that morning, but her luck ran out by lunch.

It was five minutes after the lunchtime had rung before Rachel caught sight of Quinn cornered by a group of snickering freshmen Cheerios. Quinn's jaw was clenched and her eyes furious as she tried to escape from them but clearly, they weren't allowing her to.

"... so much for quitting for "health reasons", she was kicked off the team, because she got herself knocked up!" Rachel overheard as she stormed up to them.

"Leave her alone!" she shouted, shoving her way into the centre of the Cheerios' circle.

"Ooh, look who's here! It's RuPaul to the rescue."

"Yo, Berry! We heard you got your girl here knocked up."

"Way to go, _dude_! Didn't know you had it in you, Tranny."

Rachel whirled around to face them. "What did you just say?"

"Your girl, Fabray. Finn's not the father so I'm assuming the bastard child belongs to you? Word on around here is, you've been defending her, protecting her, and that you were the one who told Finn the baby isn't his. Way to go, _Stud_."

Rachel scowled. The entire school insulting her feminity all the time was nothing new, and she was used to it by now, since their jibes, no matter how vicious, were clearly baseless, but how could they be so callous about something as serious as Quinn being pregnant? The worst part was, just a week ago, they had been smiling at Quinn and listening to her and acting as though they were her friends! Especially these freshmen, who treated her like she was the Queen Bee, and would have murdered each other bare-handed just to curry favor with their captain and get on Quinn's good side. Were they seriously turning on her now, the minute she was kicked off the team and revealed to be pregnant?

To be honest, her anger was also mixed in with a little guilt. She hadn't expected her clarification of one stupid Biology fact with Finn to have resulted in such horrible consequences for Quinn. It just wasn't fair.

Which was why, when one of them appeared with a supply of slushies and started distributing them, Rachel planted herself in front of Quinn without hesitation, just in time for her face to take the main brunt of six slushies.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Santana shouted as she approached the group. As expected, the freshmen parted like the Red Sea for her, to reveal one short, slushy-soaked brunette and and a taller blonde splattered with some splashes of corn syrup, though nowhere near as bad as Rachel's. The splashes were mainly on her forehead and hair, where Rachel's deficient height had prevented her from adequately covering Quinn's taller frame.

"Who told you to do this?" Santana demanded, glaring furiously at the freshmen.

Her angry question was met with a long silence before a timid "No-no one..." came.

Santana fought the urge to roll her eyes. Freshmen Cheerios, no matter how brazen, would never dare to slushy their ex-Captain without rubber stamped orders from someone above them. And it didn't take a genius to figure out who had given these particular orders. Well, if the seniors wanted to use the freshmen to wage a proxy war, Santana would gladly play ball. She knew she would outlast them, after all she _was_ Coach's chosen Captain, and like Quinn had said, they needed Cheerios to get their scholarships or whatever.

"Quinn Fabray is off limits," Santana said once she was sure the freshmen were sufficiently cowed. "To you, and to the rest of the school. Anyone who dares to slushy her, or even say one unkind word to her, will have to face my wrath. She's my vice-Captain, just like I was hers, and yes, she's pregnant, which is why she's currently not on the squad. However, she will still be playing an advisory role in the Cheerios, and you will all give her the respect due her."

She paused to let the news sink in, and was gratified when one of the freshmen burst into tears. _Loser_.

"Which is also why, she will be joining me everyday next week to supervise your week-long punishment trainings. If you freshies took it upon yourselves to slushy your vice-Captain, you'll jolly well pay the price. And trust me, the price will be a pretty damned heavy one. Show up late, and you'll be running laps for every minute you're late. Miss any session for any reason other than death or hospitalization, and I'll kick you off the squad."

By now, most of the other freshmen had turned on the waterworks too, and Santana smirked. Soon, they would _all_ be crying, begging her for mercy as she put them through the paces in punishment training. This bunch of girls were all wimps who needed toughening up, and anyway, this way of waging a war was easier. The seniors might be given some measure of protection by Coach due to their experience, but these freshmen had no such luck. One word from Santana would be enough for them to have to turn in their uniforms. By the end of next week, they would all know to fear her more than those snotty seniors.

"I'm still waiting for your response!"

"Yes, Captain Lopez," they quickly chorused.

"And?" Santana asked pointedly, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Yes, Vice-Captain Fabray. Sorry, Vice-Captain Fabray."

"Now get lost and don't let me see any of your pathetic faces for the rest of the day!"

They scrambled to comply and Santana turned back to her two Glee clubmates.

"You okay, Q?" she asked as she took in her friend's dishevelled appearance. The slushy stains weren't too bad, and Santana suspected that it was Quinn's pride that had taken a hit more than anything more else.

"I'm fine. Rachel took most of it."

"_Rachel?_" Santana asked with a scowl. It was her first time hearing Quinn call Rachel by her name and she was irritated. Didn't Quinn get that her image had taken a hit, and she was going to have a rough time of rehabilitating her reputation? Associating with losers like Rachel would only make regaining her popularity that much harder. There was only so much Santana could do to protect her and her association with Rachel was not going to help her at all.

Santana turned on Rachel. "What are _you_ still doing here, Berry? Didn't I just tell you to get lost?"

"I assumed you were referring to the freshmen who had just thrown these slushies," Rachel replied, in that annoying unfazed manner that just made Santana want to throw another slushy in her face. How such a short girl could stand there drenched in slushy and still talk to her so haughtily was a mystery. "I just wanted to make sure Quinn was okay and had everything she needed to clean herself up."

"Well, I'm here now, so you can just scram."

"Santana!" Quinn scolded. "She did just help me take six slushies, it wouldn't kill you to be nicer to her. Thanks for that, by the way, Rachel, and yes, I do have my toiletries and change of clothes. You should go get yourself cleaned up too, you were hit with a lot more of it than me."

Before Rachel could reply, however, Santana cut in. "Help? I wouldn't be surprised if they took out the slushies only because Berry here appeared. Everyone knows how much Berry here loves slushies in her face, it's practically her natural look. Besides, it's not like the puny dwarf managed to block anything for you."

Rachel pursed her lips at the hurtful jibes and deliberating ignored them. "You're welcome, Quinn, and if you have everything you need, I'll go wash up on my own first. Let me know if you need any help."

"I'll be helping her, you can just leave now," Santana said with a scowl.

Rachel turned on Santana. "Do you have any experience washing corn syrup out of hair, Santana? Because I do believe I am vastly more experienced at that particular skill than you are. A fact you should be well aware of, considering how just a few weeks ago, you were part of the group of Cheerios determined to drown me in slushies everyday…"

"Get. Lost."

"I can do clean up on my own," Quinn spoke up, and Rachel nodded. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she looked Santana in the eyes. "Thank you, Santana, for getting rid of the freshmen and punishing them on Quinn's behalf. I'll be on my way now and shall leave you to help Quinn." With that, she walked away with her head still held high.

"Ugh," Santana breathed out.

"That was rude, Santana," Quinn said with a sigh. She wanted to call Rachel back, to apologise and ask if she needed help with cleaning herself up, but couldn't find the words to say so. Great, Santana was angry at Rachel, and there was now no way she could tell her about living with Rachel without her going all 'Lima Heights' on Shelby again. Or on Rachel, she didn't know which was worse, really.

"That dwarf just annoys the crap out of me."

"She didn't actually do anything or say anything to you."

"It's more the fact that she exists, right?"

When Quinn raised an eyebrow at her, Santana rolled her eyes. "Just grab your stuff, Q."

As they walked to the Cheerios locker room where they would be assured of more privacy, Quinn texted Rachel quickly.

'Thanks for the slushies, sorry about Santana.'

Santana looked over her shoulder and scowled. "What the hell are you apologizing to her for? She was the one who told Finn, and she was the reason you even got slushied in the first place! She should be thankful I haven't done anything else to her for that stunt she pulled yesterday! I should have pulled the same thing you did and ordered the entire school to slushy her today!"

"Be _nice_, S. Not that I don't appreciate your help and all, but she has already apologized and she did just take half a dozen slushies for me."

"Well, she should have, it was her fault for telling Finn."

"Maybe, but I can't really blame her for being incapable of lying, or for giving him tuition in Biology. I was the one who lied to him in the first place, and an insane, desperate, huge ass lie at that. Which idiot believes that it's possible to impregnate a girl via hot tub? He was bound to discover the truth sooner or later - any guy with half a brain would have seen through my lie eons ago anyway. I was the one who lied to him and you and everyone else, and then it was Finn who spread the news to the school, not Rachel. If I can forgive her for enlightening Finn about a stupid commonly known biological fact, then you sure as hell can as well."

"Whatever. Let's just get you changed out."

"And there you go avoiding every single important conversation again. Why the hell are you so angry anyway? First at Shelby, now at Rachel… You're so busy getting angry at everyone when the person you're most angry at is me. _I_ was the one who didn't tell you about Russell and Judy, _I_ lied to you about who got me pregnant, _I_ didn't and still refuse to tell you who my baby's father is, it's _me_ you're really angry at."

"I can't get angry at _you_," Santana stated tersely. "After everything…"

"After every what? I'm not weak, I'm not pathetic, and I don't need you to defend me from slushies or to protect me from your anger. You want to be angry, fine, be angry at me. Go ahead and yell at me! Don't take it out on others."

With that, Quinn stormed into the nearest stall and Santana collapsed onto a nearby bench.

Fuck this.

**A/N. Sorry for the shorter-than-usual chapter! I blame it on Taiwan and its amazing food/shopping/attractions. Quite a bit happened in this chapter, though, so I hope that makes up for it until next time (:**


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